


Opposing Factions

by LeadSails



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeadSails/pseuds/LeadSails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alaria Riverguard, a Night Elf Druid, finds herself a Horde prisoner after a humiliating defeat in Orgrimmar. Comments and criticism welcome!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Collision

“The plan is to get into Orgrimmar, into Ragefire Chasm, and get our heroes out of there.”   
Alaria shifted uncomfortably in her heavy leather leggings, eyeing her companions. She realized there was no easy way for her to infiltrate the Horde capital, let alone do it with just two other people. ‘For the love of Elune,’ she thought. ‘Has King Varian lost his mind?’  
“Your Majesty.” A tall, gruff Draenei paladin stated, looking the king in the eye. “We will be assaulted on the spot. We are all competent soldiers, but even raid parties barely make it out alive.”  
“Velimn, you are correct.” King Varian looked towards the dwarf rogue beside him. “Gimilyl, you’ve studied the pathways into the city, correct?”  
“Yes.” Gimilyl gave a brisk reply, his voice muffled behind his beard.   
“I have gathered a party to create a distraction just inside Orgrimmar’s gates. While they fight, you three will make your way into the Chasm where Lady Jaina and the rest of her party are trapped. I will be helping to create the distraction, so you Heroes will have the time you need to make it past the Kor’kron forces.” King Varian turned to Alaria. “You have been quiet, Alaria.”  
Alaria snapped out of her trance. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”   
“Do you understand what is supposed to be done?”  
“While you and the raid create a distraction outside the gates, I will sneak in with Velimn and Gimilyl, where we will go into Ragefire Chasm and break the raid party in there free from the Kor’kron.”  
“Good.” He placed his hand on Alaria’s arm, smiling. “I have faith in you, Heroes. Pack your things. Soon, we will leave for Orgrimmar using the Kirin Tor mage portals.”  
The three bowed their heads, walking down the long halls of Stormwind Keep. Alaria whistled for her mount, a spotted sabre, jumping on his back.   
“We’ll meet up again at the keep,” Velimn decided, climbing onto his swift gray Elekk. “Don’t dawdle, for His Majesty is counting on us.”  
“Elune knows, Vel.” Alaria laughed slightly, glancing at Gimilyl struggling onto his brown ram’s back. “I just have to empty my bags, and I’ll be ready.”  
“The Light be with you.” 

Alaria watched as her partners rode off, and she trailed behind them, navigating through the canals of Stormwind. She rode out of the front gates, making her way towards Goldshire. ‘I have to get away for just a moment,’ she thought, weaving through the dozens of people dueling in between the two buildings. ‘I need to have some time alone.’ She dismounted, walking into Lion’s Pride Inn, where several patrons sat drinking and merrymaking. She climbed the stairs, looking for a room unoccupied by promiscuous young combatants. She found one, sitting on the bed and sighing. She realized that none of the inexperienced fighters knew what was going on in Azeroth; they didn’t know that Garrosh Hellscream had gone crazy. She closed her eyes for a moment, meditating. After a few minutes, she opened them, feeling rested and picking up her packs and polearm. Alaria walked down to the bar, selling useless items from her bags and lightening her load. When she walked outside, a steady mist was falling.   
“Duel me!” A young monk placed his weapon in the dirt as a declaration, staring at her.  
“I’d destroy you,” she pointed out, continuing to walk.   
The monk persisted, running in front of her and slamming his weapon into the ground.   
Sighing, Alaria transformed, her feline eyes fixing on the unsuspecting challenger. She laughed as he tried to hit her with his moves, his spinning kick merely ruffling her fur. She swiped at him, knocking him to the ground and rendering him unable to fight. Alaria looked over her shoulder as he stood up, brushing the dirt off his sundered armour and glaring at her. She ignored him, running back towards Stormwind. ‘Elune, guide us,’ she prayed, morphing into a dark purple bird and flying over the rooftops towards the keep. She watched the other heroes mill about, trying to impress their companions with their mounts or brandishing the legendary weapons they had obtained. ‘I remember fighting Illidan,’ she thought, catching a warglaive in the corner of her eye. Alaria flew into the hall of the keep, morphing back into her night elf form as she fell to the ground. She winced as she hit the stone floor, but continued running forward to join Velimn and Gimilyl, who sat on one of the benches.   
“Took you long enough,” Gimilyl snorted, grabbing a Rumsey Rum Black Label out of his backpack. “I had time to eat an entire wildfowl roast before you got here.”  
“Let her be, Gimilyl.” Velimn looked at her, standing up on his cloven feet and trotting over to her. “Let me buff you before we get going,” he offered. “The Naaru knows we’ll have no time to lose once we get there.”  
Alaria nodded, jumping as she felt Velimn’s spell course through her body. “I’ll buff, too.” She raised her hands above her head, giving both Velimn and Gimilyl a boost in strength. As soon as she dropped her hands, King Varian walked into the main room of the keep, sheathing his sword.  
“Are you ready, heroes?” he asked them.   
“Yes.” Velimn spoke for the three.   
“The Kirin Tor have graciously offered to port us close to Orgrimmar.”   
A slender Blood Elf mage stepped out of the force behind King Varian, crouching down and extending her hands to cast.   
“The rest of the forces have already arrived,” King Varian informed them. “We will be the final party members. Once I give the order, you will initiate the plan.”   
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Velimn answered.   
Alaria stood in front of the portal momentarily, the desolate landscape of Durotar flickering in its center. ‘Elune, guide me.’ She stepped through the portal, her breath leaving her chest as she was transported across the Great Sea and onto the red-clay earth outside of Orgrimmar. She waited as her companions followed, King Varian arriving last. Scared, she looked to Velimn and Gimilyl, who each had a concerned look spread across their faces. Velimn put his massive hand on her shoulder, squeezing it.   
“Heroes!” King Varian shouted above the raid. “We have dealt with the madness of Garrosh for far too long, and now, he takes some of our own!”   
Alaria let her eyes wander over the raid. Men and women of every class and race of the Alliance stood before her, many of them much stronger and better geared than she was. “Why me?” she said to herself.   
“King Varian has confidence in you,” Velimn assured her. “He knows that you will be successful. As long as we stick together, we can rescue Lady Jaina and the others.”   
“We go to crash the gates of Orgrimmar, and show these Horde scum what happens when they toy with us!” King Varian drew his sword, raising it above his head. “For the Alliance!”  
“For the Alliance!” 

Alaria watched as the raid party ran forward, attacking the massive wooden gates of Orgrimmar. Instantly, Horde members poured from inside the city, mingling with the Alliance army.   
“Let’s go,” Gimilyl said, drawing his daggers, crouching, and casting a massive cloaking ring. “Stay close to me, and you’ll keep hidden.”  
“I’ll bring up the rear.” Velimn ushered Alaria forward, nestling her between him and Gimilyl.   
“I’ll go ahead and transform,” she offered.   
“Quickly.”  
Alaria transformed, falling to all fours as she once again activated her cat form. Remaining quiet, they started moving towards the Ragefire Chasm. They crept past the gates, sticking to the main path through Orgrimmar. They turned, holding their breath as a group of guards ran past them. Alaria’s eyes darted back and forth, watching as more and more Horde members made their way to the front of the city. She curled her lip as they entered the Cleft of Shadow, seeing many vendors and trainers in its depths. ‘I don’t like this,’ she thought, nearly tripping over a large rock. ‘This was way too easy.’ The three entered the instance, meeting a group of three Kor’kron warriors upon landing.   
“I’ll tank it!” Velimn drew his hammer, swinging at a shaman, who dropped a healing totem nearby.   
Gimilyl snuck behind a warrior, stabbing him in the back but failing to assassinate him.   
Alaria swiped at the group, instantly drawing their attention. She jumped at one, biting him and causing him to bleed. She reached out, raking him with her claws. As he fell, one of the others cut at her flank, causing her to cry out and lose her balance. Velimn threw his shield, drawing him away from her and giving her time to get back on her feet. She leaped at the same orc, only tearing his armour and receiving a well-placed blow to the side. Gimilyl swept around, cutting the orc’s arm with his poisoned daggers. The poison instantly began to take effect, and the Kor’kron warrior fell dead. The shaman, trying to flee, desperately placed several healing spells on himself, only to fall to Velimn’s hammer. Alaria took several deep breaths, recovering.   
“We can’t loiter,” Gimilyl snapped. “We’re here to do a job.”   
“Give us a few seconds,” Velimn requested. “We can only heal so fast.”   
“Hmph.” Gimilyl crouched down, reactivating his stealth mode.   
Alaria followed Velimn into Gimilyl’s circle, concealing her presence as they made their way deeper into the chasm. When they finally made it to the end of the chasm, they found an entire raid party, headed by Jaina Proudmoore, struggling against one of Garrosh’s finest generals. Nazgrim, a powerful orc, had dozens of soldiers at his command and had already killed several of the party members.   
“Heroes!” she shouted. “Press on!”  
“Hellscream’s eyes are upon you!” General Nazgrim threw a worgen to the side, laughing as he collided with the stone wall.   
Alaria stood as Gimilyl revealed the three, bowing before Lady Jaina.  
“My king has sent help!” she exclaimed. “Heroes, we are being pressed to our limits, and we’ve already lost several Alliance warriors. Please, help us defeat this Horde scum!”  
“My lady, we will assist you.” Velimn drew his hammer from his back.   
Alaria looked around with her bright yellow eyes, noting the carnage surrounding her. She focused on Nazgrim, a growl forming in her throat. She waited for Velimn to join the battle before launching herself at one of Nazgrim’s allies, tearing at his throat and throwing blood everywhere. A pair of gnome warlocks and their pets assisted her, quickly tearing down the beserker. She hardly had time to regain her energy as another wave of Kor’kron advanced, tearing down a mage and a priest. Alaria looked over her shoulder, seeing Gimilyl falling to the ground. ‘No!’ she thought, running to his side. “Gimilyl,” she said, transforming and raising her hands above her head. “Don’t die!”  
“Save your heals,” he spat, struggling to his feet. “I’d rather go down in battle for my beloved Alliance than risk becoming a prisoner of the Horde!” He laced his daggers with poison, running into the center of the Kor’kron warriors. He shanked two of the three before an orcish blade sliced across his throat, throwing his head from his shoulders.   
Alaria stood motionless, tears pouring down her cheeks. A new rage built up inside her chest, and she transformed into her dark feline form, launching at a soldier and tearing at his leather armour. He threw her to the ground several times, but she refused to remain grounded for long, and quickly helped to destroy him. The raid group, who had been fighting for hours, were clearly exhausted, and Nazgrim was still fighting with more gusto than any of the Alliance warriors.   
“We have to retreat!” Jaina declared. “We have no other options! Heroes, let’s go!”   
“Lady Jaina,” a human warrior said. “The bodies of the dead—”  
“We shall never forget them,” she assured him. “But we must retreat if we wish to truly overthrow the Horde!”   
“For the Horde!” Nazgrim cut down a draenei woman, smiling as he approached Jaina. “You, Garrosh would like you. You would be a powerful bargaining chip for the Warchief.”  
“Go, Lady Jaina!” Velimn threw his shield at the general, striking him in the chest and drawing his attention. “Alaria, go!”  
Alaria looked at the retreating raid, then back to Velimn, who struggled against Nazgrim. She ran over, jumping on Nazgrim’s back and biting beneath his spaulder.   
“Damned Alliance!” Nazgrim threw his axe at Velimn, who ran out of its path and into a group of Kor’kron soldiers. “Kor’kron, kill him!”  
Alaria jumped at Nazgrim again, meeting a swift swing of his weapon. She cried out, falling to the ground and out of her transformation.   
“Alaria!” Velimn pushed out of the circle of Kor’kron, placing a protective shield around Alaria and picking her up. He ran towards the pathway out of the Ragefire Chasm, being pursued by the general and his soldiers.   
“You won’t escape, draenei!” Nazgrim threw his axe again, striking Velimn in between his shoulder blades.   
Velimn collapsed, bringing Alaria down with him.   
“Vel!” she exclaimed, shaking his shoulder. “Vel, get up! You can’t die in here!” She shrieked as thick green roots tangled themselves around her legs, holding her fast as the Kor’kron and Nazgrim approached.   
“Do we kill them?” One of the Kor’kron beserkers asked.   
Nazgrim thought for a moment. “No.” He walked over to Velimn, tearing his helmet from his head. “I’ll send the draenei with a message for his Warchief.” He pulled Velimn’s head back by his long, dark ponytail, drawing a knife. “You go back and tell your Warchief that Garrosh has one of his precious heroes,” he commanded. “And that Garrosh will be waiting for him.”   
Alaria closed her eyes as Nazgrim cut Velim’s tentacles from his jaw, filling the cavern with his scream. ‘No, Vel!’  
“And you, night elf.” Nazgrim approached Alaria, his lips pulled back in a sneer. “You’re staying here.”  
Alaria spat in his face, her eyes glowing more intensely. “Horde monster,” she muttered.   
“I will send you beyond the depths of Deepholm!” he roared, slapping her. “Hold your tongue, foul elf.”   
Alaria struggled as the Kor’kron soldiers took each of her arms, lifting her from the roots and starting down the chasm path. “Vel!” she shouted. “Vel, get up!” She pulled against the soldiers, fighting tears. “Vel!”  
“He will wake up when you’re gone.” Nazgrim laughed. “And when you’re in the auction house, perhaps he will have made it back to your precious Stormwind.”  
Alaria gasped as the Kor’kron shaman in front of her struck her with a spell, and she felt her eyelids sink.

When Alaria regained her senses, she found herself bound, gagged, stripped of her armour and weapons, and laying on the floor of Grommash Hold. She wondered what was going on when she received a sharp kick in her side. She cried out, gritting her teeth as laughs filled her ears.  
“Looks like our pitiful Alliance prisoner has awakened.” Garrosh Hellscream stepped down from his throne, plodding over to Alaria. “Your king won’t be coming for you,” he told her, placing his greaved foot in the center of her back. “He wouldn’t be stupid enough to come and save you.”  
Alaria attempted to shapeshift, finding her efforts thwarted by a nearby warlock, who stood with his seductress beside him.   
“You know what I’m gonna do with you, elf?” Garrosh kicked her, walking away. “I’m gonna let my men do what they want to you. I have no use for you, since weakness is not a part of the Horde. Nazgrim, deal with her.”  
“With pleasure, Warchief.” General Nazgrim walked over to Alaria. “You’ll pay for what you did to my troops,” he snarled, pulling her to her feet. “We’ll give you a taste of the true Horde.”   
Alaria was dragged out into the streets of Orgrimmar, accompanied by Nazgrim and several Kor’kron. She caught several disapproving glances from members of the Horde, and she tried to avoid their stares. The rocks cut at her feet as they hurried her along, bringing her just outside the gates.   
“Now that we are out of Orgrimmar, we can do whatever we want to you.” Nazgrim grinned. “And no one will ever know what happened to you.” He threw her to the ground, dust scattering around them.   
Alaria tried to get to her feet, falling back to the ground as the seductress lashed her whip across her back. She cried out as she was hit again. ‘For the love of Elune!’ she thought. ‘Please, guide me!’ She attempted to transform once more, but in vain. The whip trailed over her shoulders, leaving behind a long, thin cut.   
“Chordok, Halmud, I leave this to you.” Nazgrim turned to the two orcs that had accompanied him. “Make sure she gets to the Breaker. He’s not had a lady in a while.”  
Alaria closed her eyes, furrowing her violet brow. ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Elune, give me strength!’

Alaria stirred, feeling a soft cloth being wrapped around her arm.  
“Don’ be movin’, mon. Dey got ya bad dis time.”   
She opened her eyes, meeting those of a troll. She attempted to scoot away, but he placed his three-fingered hand on her shoulder, pausing her.   
“Dey call me Breaker, but dey don’ know me. Jus’ be still, mon. Jul’zin gon’ fix ya up.”  
Alaria shook as he continued to wrap the windwool bandage around the dozens of cuts in her arm. ‘A troll,’ she thought.   
“Jul’zin be expectin’ ‘nuther human mon, an’ den dey bring dis tiny elf to him. He ask dem, ‘What she do to you?’ an’ dey says, ‘she ‘ttack Nazgrim, so we want ya ta break her like de others.’ Dem orcs aren’t so bright, mon.” He tied the bandage off, standing up. “Don’ worry, mon. Jul’zin gon’ take care o’ ya.”  
Alaria looked at Jul’zin. His bright pink hair stood on end in a Mohawk, and his tusks had a slight curl. Though he was hunched over, she could tell that he towered over her. She noticed the heavy mail kilt that sat around his waist, and the bright white scar that cut across his muscular back.   
“Ya feelin’ better, mon?” He turned back towards her. “I been workin’ on yer back, mon. Dem orcs are bad voodoo, now. Garrosh been meddlin’ in da voodoo, an’ he give it to da rest o’ da Horde.” He walked across the one-room hut to a small table. “So I been usin’ all kinds o’ medicine on ya.”  
Alaria stared at the bear skin draped across her chest, not daring to speak.   
“Dey always ask Jul’zin why he be helpin’ dem, mon. Ya hasn’t said a ting.” He grabbed a glass cup, drinking the amber-colored liquid. “I gettin’ some mana back, an’ den I come fix ya.”   
Alaria closed her eyes, already exhausted. ‘I don’t feel rested at all,’ she thought. ‘I don’t know what they did to me, but I can’t even move. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know anything!’  
“Dem pandas, dey make good tea, mon.” Jul’zin crouched beside Alaria, placing his massive hands on her forehead and stomach. “Be still, mon. I be usin’ da spirits ta give you good voodoo, ‘cause ya be hurtin,’ ya mon?”  
Alaria sighed as a cool wave flowed through her body, realizing that he was a healer.   
“Dis get ya started, mon, but ya be stayin’ here fo’ a while. Dem orcs gotta tink Jul’zin breakin’ ya.” Jul’zin stood up, walking to the door. “And ya has a lotta scars ta heal.” He opened the door, looking out. “Dis here be Jul’zin’s bed,” he explained to her. “I long ways from Orgrimmar, mon. Dem orcs always tink I be out here killin’, so dey leave me alone. I ne’er like dem, nohow.” He closed the door, returning to a chair beside the small table. “Ya jus’ sleep, mon. I an’t gon’ kill ya. You pretty, tiny elf. Jul’zin ain’t use’ta seein’ dem, mon.”  
‘Why is a troll helping me?’ she wondered. ‘The Horde, helping an Alliance. It’s practically unheard of this close to Orgrimmar. Maybe I’ll ask him later.’

When she regained consciousness, she opened her eyes to Jul’zin looming above her, and she shrieked.   
“What dat for?” he asked her, pulling back. “Jul’zin an’t gonna eat ya, mon.”  
Alaria’s lip quivered. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.   
“Ya say somet’in, mon?” Jul’zin stood, going over to a small fireplace.  
“I’m sorry,” she repeated; this time, louder.   
“Ya scared, mon. Jul’zin knows.” He grabbed a bowl and ladle, scooping something from a pot. “Hungry, mon? Jul’zin been cookin’ while ya sleepin’.”  
Alaria pushed herself up, whimpering as every cut and bruise fought against her.   
“Don’ be doin’ dat, mon. Ya not ready ta be leavin’ yet.” He returned, the bowl cupped in his palm. “Eat dis,” he instructed, sitting in a chair beside the bed. “Strider stew, mon. Made it meself.”  
Alaria jumped as Jul’zin placed a spoonful of the stew in her mouth, swallowing heavily. “I can do it my—” She was interrupted by another spoon of stew.  
“Don’ be talkin’ mon.” Jul’zin waited for a moment before giving Alaria more of the stew. “Dem human men, dey try to fight me when I do dis, but I much stronger, mon. You strong, tiny elf, but you be hurtin’.”   
Alaria gave up, allowing Jul’zin to feed her the entire bowl of strider stew. “Jul’zin?”  
“Dat’s me, mon.” He sat the bowl aside, resting his chin on his hands.   
“Thank you.” Alaria looked away.  
“Don’ ‘spect dis gonna be easy,” he said. “You gon’ have ta work when ya can.”  
Alaria nodded, clutching at her chest. ‘I hope Vel escaped,’ she thought. ‘Even if he didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to find him. I’m powerless, gearless, and held by a troll.’  
“Ya need gear, mon?” He stood up, going and opening a large wooden chest. “What ya wear?”  
“Leather,” she replied.   
“Druid?” he asked. “Ya look like a druid, methinks.”  
“Yes.” Alaria sighed. “Thank you.”  
“I don’ want ya walkin’ ‘round wit’ nothin’ on,” he explained to her. “Dem orcs ne’er take de men’s gear, but you be pretty, so dey take yours.” He pulled out a pair of pants and a vest. “Dese be mine, in my training days. Dey be too big fo’ ya, mon, but dey work.”  
Alaria nodded. “That’s alright,” she said. “The Kor’kron would have killed me.”  
“Ya, dey would. I step in an’ tell dem I take care o’ ya from dere. Dey believe I gon’ kill ya soon.”   
She blushed as Jul’zin pulled the bear skin away from her. ‘He can’t see me blushing,’ she realized as he put her arms through the vest. ‘Thank Elune for making me purple.’   
Jul’zin pulled Alaria’s long, dark purple ponytail out from under the collar of the leather vest. “I can’t get dis on as easy, mon,” he said, handing her the pants. “I don’ wanna hurt ya tryin’ ta dress ya.”   
“Thank you.” Alaria turned away. ‘Not even my own people have seen me this powerless! Not even Vel, who I’ve worked with for years, has seen me like this!’ She pulled the too-big pants on, glancing over at Jul’zin, who sat with his eyes closed.   
“Ya rest now, mon,” Jul’zin suggested. “We be workin’ when ya wake up, so dem Kor’kron tink I breakin’ ya.”  
Alaria wasn’t tired, but she fell back on the bed, watching as Jul’zin stretched himself out on the ground. He used his arm as a pillow, his normally slouched stature straightening out and displaying his true size. ‘I’ve seen a lot of trolls,’ Alaria thought. ‘But he’s one of the tallest ones yet.’ She sat back up, wincing. ‘There’s no way that he can be this willing to help. This has to be some sort of trap!’ She slid down to the edge of the bed, gently setting her feet on the ground. ‘I have to get out of here!’ She looked over at the door, where Jul’zin’s axe sat. ‘If I can get him now, perhaps I can wound him and buy me some time.’ She carefully stepped over him, holding her breath as he turned over, his back turning to the door. Alaria picked up his axe, balancing it in her hand as she returned to him. She placed her other hand on the handle, raising it above her head.   
“What ya doin’ wit’ my weapon, elf?”  
She gasped, dropping the weapon on her foot and cutting into it. She bit her lip as she tried to back away, blood seeping from her self-inflicted wound.   
“Ya tryin’ ta kill Jul’zin?” He sat up, looking over at her. “Dat how all ya ‘lliance treat da people who help ya?”  
Speechless, Alaria opened her mouth, trying to respond.   
“Jul’zin don’ mean ta kill ya, elf. Why ya feel da need ta try an’ kill him wit’ his own weapon?”  
Alaria looked down at her foot, which was now covered in blood. “I…I…”  
“I forgive ya if ya promise me dat you not gon’ do it again, mon.” He walked over to her, towering over her. “If ya feel da need ta try ta kill me, den ya should try it right now, while I standin’ right in front of ya." He tapped his finger on his chest. "I don’ like it when people try ta stab me in da back.”  
Alaria felt tears well in her eyes as she realized that she was scared and in pain. She fell down, sitting and staring ahead of her.   
“What da matta?” Jul’zin squatted in front of her. “I thought ya tryin’ ta run off.”  
“I’m sorry,” she said, holding her foot. “I’m so scared!”  
“Ya shouldn’t be, mon. I not gon’ eat ya.” He looked at her foot. “Ya drop Jul’zin’s axe on ya foot, mon?”  
She shook her head. “I’m fine,” she assured him quickly.   
“Ya bleedin’ all ova my floor, mon.” He stood up, walking over to a shelf and grabbing some bandages. “Jus’ stop dat cryin’. Jul’zin don’ like dat.”   
Alaria shook as he squatted back in front of her, grabbing her hands and pulling them away from her cut.  
“Ya clumsy, elf,” he chuckled. “It take skill ta drop my axe like dat.”  
She watched as Jul’zin carefully wrapped her foot, his massive hands holding the bandage as if it were made of glass. She glanced back up, shrinking back as she met his eyes. ‘They’re so red,’ she realized, looking away. ‘Like years of bloodshed have stained them…’  
“Ya feelin’ betta, mon?” He put his hands on his knees.  
Alaria nodded, holding her knees with her arms.  
“Don’ try an’ get Jul’zin like dat. He don’ mean ya any harm.” Jul’zin stood up, patting the side of her head. “Get up now, an’ get ya silly elf ass in da bed.”  
Alaria pushed herself to her feet, wincing.   
“Here, I help ya, mon.”   
She jumped as Jul’zin leaned over, wrapping his arm around her waist and taking the weight off her foot. “Thank you,” she whimpered, still shaking.   
“It be nothin’, mon. Ya jus’ promise Jul’zin ya not gon’ try an’ get him like dat again.”  
“I promise.” She sighed as Jul’zin lowered her on the little bed, her entire body weary and aching.   
“Good. Ya get some rest, mon. I gon’ work ya hard tomorrow.”  
Alaria leaned back, closing her eyes. ‘Elune, Goddess,’ she prayed. ‘Guide me.’ 

 

“Get up, mon!”  
Alaria sat up as Jul’zin pulled the bear skin away, of fering her a hand.   
“Ya be hurtin’ mon, but we be gettin’ ya ready to fight dem Kor’kron an’ Garrosh.”  
Alaria hesitated, placing her hand in his and allowing him to help her to her feet.   
“I gon’ be breakin’ ya today.” He laughed. “I be teachin’ ya what dem Kor’kron really doin’ so ya can take it back to your king.” He maneuvered a large rice cake between his tusks and into his mouth. “Ya hungry, mon?”  
“No, thank you.” Alaria brushed her fingers along her arms, which were covered in windwool bandages. “What did they do to me?”  
“Hmm?” Jul’zin took a drink of water before grabbing his axe and shield.   
“The Kor’kron.” Alaria paused. “I don’t remember. The last thing I remember was the general cutting Vel’s face tentacles, and that I was going back to Orgrimmar.”  
“Ah, ya.” He opened the door. “Dey beat ya pretty bad, mon. Dat ‘lock pet, da succubus. She done bad voodoo, an’ da two orcs laugh an’ kick at ya. I come in, goin’ to get some tings in Orgrimmar, and dey stops me an’ asks if I wanna go at ya. I says ‘ya mon, but only if I get da elf back at my place.’ Dey perfectly happy to get rid o’ ya.” Jul’zin smiled. “So Jul’zin takes da elf, an’ he bandages and heals her up so she don’ die.”  
She nodded. “What do you plan to do?”  
“Well, I gon’ show ya what I learn from Kor’kron, an’ we go get some kodo for eats.”  
Alaria followed Jul’zin out of the tiny house, wondering where they were going. Jul’zin whistled, and a large red raptor bounded over to him.   
“Dis here be Roojama,” he explained, grabbing the reins. “You ridin’ wit’ me?”  
“I’ll run.” Alaria smiled slightly. “I’m feeling a little better today.”  
“My voodoo be workin’, den?” Jul’zin jumped on the raptor’s back, adjusting his mail kilt.   
“Yeah.” Alaria transformed, assuming her sleek feline form. She trotted up beside Jul’zin, who looked down and grinned.   
“We gon’ ride west,” he explained. “Try an’ keep up, mon.”   
Alaria hesitated as Jul’zin started forward, only running when she realized he was pulling rapidly ahead. ‘I can’t keep up with him,’ she thought, her chest heaving with each long stride. ‘His mount moves too fast! He must have been training for years!’   
“You be movin’ slow, mon!” Jul’zin slowed his raptor to run beside her. “I tell ya what. I run back wit’ ya. Dat way, dem Kor’kron can’t get ya, ‘cause I be in charge now.”  
Alaria didn’t respond, continuing to run. She jumped out of her transformation as Jul’zin slowed down, observing a herd of kodo in the distance.  
“We need one o’ dem,” he said. “I gon’ do most o’ da killin’, since you still healin’ an’ dis be da first time you been up fo’ a while.”  
“I thought you were a healer.”  
“Jul’zin’s gotta be able ta defend himself, mon. I heal, but dem Kor’kron are vicious, so I be vicious back.”   
Alaria nodded. “I can do something,” she offered.  
“Well, mon, ya wanna pull?”   
“I can.”   
“Well, mon, go at it, den. We jus’ need one o’ dem kodo.”  
Alaria transformed, immediately beginning to prowl over to the small herd of kodo. She crept behind one, taking a deep breath before pouncing and digging her claws into its flank. It let out a horrible howl, shaking her off and turning to face her. She shifted into the form of a bear, swiping out in front of her as it lashed at her. She growled, looking over as a long stream of lightning struck the kodo in the side. Jul’zin immediately grabbed its attention, dropping a totem beside him as he threw a spark at the beast. It roared as the fire nipped at its hide, then proceeded to charge Jul’zin. Jul’zin grunted as the kodo struck him square in the chest, pushing him back. He countered with a stream of lava, which felled the beast. Alaria lumbered over to the dead kodo, then transformed back into her elven form.  
“Ya did good, mon,” Jul’zin complimented, brushing dirt from his chest. “I didn’t ‘spect ya ta try an’ keep da aggro.”  
“I’m an off-tank,” she admitted. “I’m used to having to take the aggro. You pulled it away so easily, though.”  
“I be strong, mon.” Jul’zin laughed. “I train wit’ da Kor’kron, an’ dey give me skills.” He drew a skinning knife, quickly stripping the kodo of the leather. “We gon’ do some o’ da practice from da Kor’kron when we get back. Dat way, ya get a chance ta rest up a bit.” He packed the leather and several large pieces of flesh in a backpack, throwing it over his shoulder. “Ya ready ta go back, mon?”  
“What if I said no?” Alaria took a quick breath, testing her limits.  
“Well, ya don’ have much wit’ ya. No weapon, no gear, an’ ya still hurtin’. If ya tink ya can ‘scape da Kor’kron, be me guest.” He shrugged, shooting her a wicked glance. “But Jul’zin can’t save ya ‘gain, pretty elf. Ya best stick wit’ me, if ya wanna get back to dat Stormwind o’ yours.”  
Alaria, the color flushing from her cheeks, transformed, shrinking beside Jul’zin. He smiled, turning himself into a massive, spectral wolf. He started running, though much slower than on his mount. Alaria managed to be able to keep up with him, though the pain running through her body was becoming more prominent. By the time they made it back to Jul’zin’s hut, she had exhausted herself, and she collapsed just yards away from the door.   
“Ya alright, mon?” Jul’zin asked, pulling the leather out of the backpack and stretching it on a preexisting frame. He walked over to her, crouching beside her. “Tired?”  
Alaria had shifted back into her elven form, and she hardly moved.   
“Don’ worry, mon. Jul’zin gon’ get ya some more bandages. Gotta change dem old ones, methinks.” He picked her up, cradling her in his long, muscular arms. He carried her inside, placing her on his bed.   
“Jul’zin,” she said quietly. “I’ll be fine.’  
“I know, after I take care o’ ya, ya gonna be doin’ good.” He chuckled to himself. “I guess we be doin’ some o’ dat training later, mon.”   
“Just give me a few minutes,” she insisted, trying to push herself up but meeting Jul’zin’s massive hand across her chest.   
“Jus’ lay back, mon.” He pushed her down, then patted her on the cheek. “Gimme a minute, an’ I be gettin’ ya fixed up.”  
Alaria huffed, crossing her arms across her chest with dismay. She looked at Jul’zin, noting many scars in addition to the large one across his back and the several bone rings in each of his long, pointed ears. As he turned back, a pile of bandages in each three-fingered hand, Alaria’s eyes caught the gold necklace hanging around his neck and the peculiar twist of his tusks.   
“What ya be lookin’ at, mon?” he asked her ,setting the windwool down.   
“Nothing,” Alaria lied.   
“Ya lookin’ at Jul’zin, mon. He feels ya eyes.” He smiled slightly. “Jul’zin don’t mind dat. Dem others, dey afraid ta look at ‘im, ‘cause he be a troll.” He began unwrapping one of Alaria’s arms. “But ya little elf, ya be lookin’ at ‘im.” He paused, crouching beside her. “I never asked ya what ya name was, mon.”  
“Alaria.” She gasped, realizing how quickly she had blurted out her name.   
“Dat be pretty name for ya, mon. Don’ be scared, mon. Jul’zin jus’ wanna call ya by da name ya been given.” Jul’zin threw the used, bloody bandage aside, grabbing a new one and beginning to wrap it around her cuts. “’laria,” he said. “I ‘member dat name. You were one o’ Varian’s top fightas, weren’t ya?”  
“How did you know?” She watched Jul’zin drop a healing totem, which pulsated with every wave.   
“Garrosh tell da Kor’kron all ‘bout ya.” He grabbed her other hand, guiding her arm over and unwrapping it. “Dey be on da lookout for ya and da rest o’ ya team.”  
“They killed Gimilyl,” she sighed, suddenly mournful.   
“Jus’ be happy dey not kill ya or da other one. Dat Gim, his spirit be in a better place, ya? He be drinkin’ an’ fuckin’ an’ fightin’ an’ watchin’ over ya, mon.”  
Alaria looked down, counting the numerous scars on Jul’zin’s hands.   
“There, ya good ta go.” He nodded, admiring his handiwork. “Dat be lookin’ good, mon.” He smiled. “Ya wanna get some fightin’ in?” he asked her.   
She thought for a moment. “I’m feeling a little better, now that I’ve rested,” she admitted. “I suppose a little wouldn’t hurt.”  
“Good. We go outside, den. More space for dis, ‘cause in here be tiny.”  
Alaria pushed herself to her feet. ‘There’s no way,’ she thought. ‘He’s going to destroy me.’  
“’laria, we be goin, mon!” He dropped his axe and shield just outside the door, standing in a clearing in front of the hut. “You don’ have weapons, so neither does Jul’zin. He play fair, unlike dem Kor’kron. Dey use bad voodoo.” He ran his fingers through his bright, messy hair.   
She stood across from him, shifting from foot to foot.   
“We jus’ gon’ grapple a bit, mon. Dem Kor’kron, dey good at dis. Dey big an’ strong, so dey use hand ta hand. I not quite as good, but I be close.” He chuckled. “I even take off some o’ my gear.” Jul’zin removed his bracers, tossing them aside. “Dat way, we more equal, ya?” He proceeded to untie a few trinkets from his belt, setting them with his bracers. “Ya ready, mon?”  
Alaria closed her eyes. ‘Goddess, guide me.’   
Jul’zin waltzed closer to Alaria, keeping his head low. “’laria, I let ya make da first move, since you da lady ‘ere.” He laughed under his breath.   
Alaria transformed, taking a few steps back in her feline form. She watched as Jul’zin followed her every move, and she pulled back, getting ready to spring. She launched at Jul’zin, who took her claws in each of his shoulders. A grimace crawled across his face, and he wrapped his fingers around her front paws. She kicked at him with her back feet, merely scratching his mail kilt. He then lifted her, pulling her from his skin and throwing her back to the ground. Alaria instantly reverted back to her night elf form, dazed. She shrieked as Jul’zin crouched over her, holding her face down with one hand, grabbing her hand and pulling it behind her back with the other. She struggled against him, finding herself nearly powerless against his grip. Alaria fought against Jul’zin, grumbling as she worked against his long, strong arms. He laughed slightly, releasing her and standing up. She shot up and turned to face him, suddenly free.   
“Come on, mon. You can do better, methinks.” Jul’zin glanced over his shoulder. “’Specially if you plan on defeating da Kor’kron.”  
“I won’t be doing it alone,” she argued.   
“You don’t know dat. You be alone right now, mon. What if I be Kor’kron?”  
“I’d have killed you by now.”   
“Like dat? I don’t tink so.” He shook his head, chuckling . “I still standing, mon. Dat means I livin’.”   
Alaria pulled her hair out of her face, taking deep breaths. She realized she wasn’t used to the type of fighting she now engaged in, as Velimn had always been there to direct the aggression away from her.   
“You done for now?” Jul’zin asked her.   
“No,” she snapped. “I’m not.”  
“Well, den. Come get me. You first, ‘laria.”  
She transformed again, jumping into a prowl. She crept behind Jul’zin, who seemed not to notice. She sprung at his turned back, sinking her claws into his shoulders for a second time. She realize her mistake as Jul’zin grabbed her paws, flipping her over his head and onto the ground in front of him. She again lost her cat form, and found herself squirming against Jul’zin’s grip on either arm.   
“You gotta be smarter, mon,” he informed her, leaning in closer to her. “You not gon’ beat me wit’ muscle. Jul’zin’s got da power of experience behind him.”  
Alaria shook her head, still struggling.   
“Stop dat, silly elf.” He pulled back, again releasing her as he laughed. “I let you go, now.” He looked over his shoulder again, whipping back to face her. “Dem Kor’kron, dey be showin’ up. Ya gotta look like Jul’zin been breakin’ ya.” He grabbed her, yanking her towards him. He drew a skinning knife, slitting his palm open. “You gonna hafta play wit’ me,” he told her, smearing his blood across her chest and dripping it on her face. “Dey don’t know I been helpin’ ya.” Jul’zin flicked several drops of blood on the dusty earth, then cut the ribbon binding Alaria’s hair. “So bear wit’ me, mon.” He threw her to the ground, then dropped an earthbind totem. “You gon’ feel da might o’ da Horde!” he roared, kicking the ground beside her. “You gon’ be sorry ya thought ‘bout tryin’ to take Orgrimmar!” He placed a small heal on himself, the cut disappearing. Jul’zin whipped around as General Nazgrim and several of his attendants approached him.   
“Jul’zin, the Breaker,” Nazgrim said, his lip curling. “You’ve been working hard?”  
“Why you an’ ya lackeys come an’ bother me?” he asked, placing his two-toed foot on Alaria’s back. “Can’t ya see Jul’zin workin’?”  
“Garrosh himself wanted to know your progress,” he replied. “Why does she have gear?”  
“I don’ like lookin’ at ‘lliance women wit’ no garb. Dey not tasteful like da Horde.” He paused, glancing down at Alaria. “Since ya took ‘er gear, I had ta do somethin’ so dat she didn’t displease me.”  
“We thought you might enjoy this one, especially since she happens to be one of the Alliance’s top warriors.” Nazgrim looked down at Alaria, spitting on her. “But I see you’ve been doing your job, Jul’zin. She looks like she should be ready to beg for mercy.”  
“Oh, trust me, mon. She will.” Jul’zin snarled. “Jul’zin gon’ break her ‘til she does, an’ he gon’ enjoy e’ery minute o’ it.”   
“Do you need anything to assist you? Perhaps one of my soldiers?”  
“Jul’zin don’ need dem Kor’kron orcs. He plenty capable o’ killin’ her hisself.”  
“Very well. I will inform the Warchief of your progress. Lok’tar ogar, Breaker.”  
“Lok’tar ogar, general.” 

Jul’zin waited until they were well away before recalling his totem and crouching beside Alaria. “Jul’zin be sorry ‘bout dat,” he said, wiping the blood and saliva from her face with the back of his hand. “He jus’ don’ wanna see ya be killed by dem.”  
Alaria nodded. “Thank you,” she told him.   
“You ready for rest now, tiny elf.” He grabbed her hand, helping her to her feet. “We be doin’ more practice t’morrow.”  
Alaria paused, then put her hand on his arm. “Really,” she said, though hesitant. “The Goddess bless you, for you’ve not only saved my life and my dignity, and you’ve given me a second chance when you could have killed me, but you’ve also saved the lives of other Alliance members too.”  
“Jul’zin don’ need nothin’,” he said, shrugging as they entered his house. “He be happy jus’ livin’ like he does.” He motioned to his cot. “You sit dere, and I be willin’ ta fix ya up.”  
“I’m doing alright,” Alaria assured him. “But thank you.”  
“You jus’ go ‘head an’ rest. It still early, but you not rested, an’ it harder to train if ya don’ have all your strength.” He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes. “Jul’zin got some other tings ta do, anyway. He gon’ prepare da kodo dat we killed dis mornin’ so dat we have somethin’ for dinner.”   
Alaria, seeing that it was little help to argue, sat on Jul’zin’s bed, laying back and wincing as she straightened out. ‘Those falls today didn’t help,’ she thought. ‘But Jul’zin obviously doesn’t intend to do anything to me. I’m safe, and I hope Vel made it back.’   
Over the months, Alaria worked with Jul’zin, learning whatever he had to offer about the Kor’kron army and Garrosh Hellscream’s strategies. She grew more and more accustomed to Jul’zin’s company, as well as his peculiar mannerisms specific to Darkspear trolls. One day, as they were returning from a hunt, Jul’zin sat her down, struggling to speak.   
“Jul’zin tinks dat… ‘laria, you ready to go back, mon. Jul’zin taught ya all he know ‘bout dem Kor’kron, and ya Warchief would like ta have dat information.”  
“What?” Alaria, almost aghast, asked.   
“You been stayin’ wit’ Jul’zin for a long time. Dat Varian, he don’t forget ‘bout his people. Dey still lookin’ for ya, methinks. It time for you to leave dis ol’ troll an’ get back wit’ your ‘lliance.”  
Alaria hesitated to respond, realizing that she hadn’t considered returning to Stormwind.   
“I go wit’ ya as far as Duskwood,” he offered. “Dat way, you not travelin’ alone.”  
“How are we going to get to the Eastern Kingdoms?” she asked. “We can’t fly across the Maelstrom on our own.”  
“We take da boat in da south.” He laughed slightly. “No one question a troll and a night elf gettin’ on da same boat dat way.”  
Alaria sighed. “When did you want to leave?”  
“We leaving tomorrow mornin’,” Jul’zin declared. “Cause Jul’zin gotta make sure you safe from da Kor’kron.”   
“Alright.” She looked out the small window behind her, noticing the moon high over the dry landscape. “We should rest then.”  
“I be okay wit’ dat.” He motioned to his bed. “You sleep on de bed,” he offered. “You did good today.”  
“That’s alright.” She smiled. “You go ahead. I’m not tired yet.”  
“If ya say so, ‘laria. Jul’zin gon’ take da bed, den.” He removed his trinkets and belt, placing them on a table. “Since Jul’zin mighty tired tonight.” Jul’zin took off his necklace and bracers, placing them with the rest of his gear. Before slipping into the bed, he stepped out of his heavy mail kilt, hanging it on the back of a vacant chair before crawling under the bearskin and curling up on the small cot.  
Alaria watched Jul’zin, not surprised by his nightly routine. ‘I don’t know if I can do it,’ she thought, adjusting the vest. ‘I’ve grown quite fond of him, and I don’t know that I can just leave him.’ She waited until he was asleep, then walked over to the table. She picked up Jul’zin’s bracers, rubbing her thumbs across the familiar chain links. She tried to comprehend the number of times she’d felt those bracers on Jul’zin’s three-fingered hands, but she was at a loss. Alaria sat them down, looking at his necklace. ‘That’s hit me in the face so man y times,’ she realized, stifling a small laugh. ‘Since he’s so much bigger than I am.’ She ran her delicate fingers across the gold pieces, sighing as she pulled away and sat on the ground. She jumped as Jul’zin stirred, his arm falling out of the skin and resting on the floor. Admiring him, she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. ‘To think, it will all be one distant memory soon.’ 

The next morning, Jul’zin rose early, waking Alaria as well.  
“We be goin’,” he told her, putting his gear on and grabbing a bite of leftover kodo steak for breakfast. “I packin’ some tings, and den we go. It be a long ride, but I have a raptor for ya.” He pulled a few loose strands of hair out of his face, throwing them back with the rest of his Mohawk.   
“I can run,” Alaria offered.   
“You don’ run fast enough,” he informed her.  
“I can transform into a deer,” she replied, crossing her arms across her chest.   
“You can’t talk to Jul’zin when you like dat.” He grabbed several bags, tying them to his belt and throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “You ready?” He looked around, assuring himself that he hadn’t forgotten anything. “I let you ride Roojama, since she a little bit nicer,” he said. “I be ridin’ Ful’imal, since he be rowdy.” He whistled for his raptors, nodding as Roojama and a larger, blue raptor appeared. “Jul’zin help ya on,” he told Alaria.   
She nodded, walking over to Roojama, who growled slightly.   
“An’ up!”   
Alaria jumped as Jul’zin lifted her onto Roojama’s back, and she took the reins of the raptor. She watched as Jul’zin mounted Ful’imal, then motioned for her to follow. ‘Here we go,’ she thought.   
For miles and miles, they rode, dodging mobs of creatures and the occasional traveling warrior as they made their way to Ratchet. As the arrived, Alaria was met with both Horde and Alliance stares. ‘I must look like an amateur,’ she realized. ‘I don’t have the money to buy gear, and everything I have is back in Stormwind, so I’m still wearing Jul’zin’s gear.’ She kept close to Jul’zin, who led the way to the docks.   
“Just keep wit’ me,” he instructed. “Dis boat ride be a little long, but safe.”   
Alaria followed Jul’zin onto the deck of one of the ships, standing beside him on Roojama.   
“Dis be da first time Jul’zin be gettin’ off Kalimdor in a long time,” he told her. “Dem Kor’kron been keepin’ me busy.”  
She refrained from replying, shrieking as the boat began to pull out of the harbor.   
“Relax,” he insisted, jumping off Ful’imal. “We can rest here.” He pulled a water skin out of one of the packs. “Drink?” he offered.   
“Sure.” She grabbed the skin, smiling slightly. “Thank you.”  
“It’s what Jul’zin bring dem for.” He grabbed a skin for himself, drinking it in one go. He placed the empty skin back in his pack, then waited for Alaria to finish hers. “You excited, mon?” he asked her. “I know you haven’t seen any o’ ya ‘lliance friends since dem Kor’kron bring ya ta me.”  
“A little,” she admitted. “I do miss Vel.”   
“He miss you too, pretty elf.” He ruffled her hair with his hand, laughing. “All dem ‘lliance miss ya. You important in da ‘lliance, mon. Dey be happy when you back to help dem.”   
“I suppose.” She shot Jul’zin a playful glare, fixing her hair. “That’s assuming they haven’t replaced me with someone else.”  
“Dat could be.” Jul’zin shrugged. “But ya don’ know yet. Ya never know until ya go an’ see for yaself, mon.” 

The boat ride took several hours, and by the time they arrived in Booty Bay, the sun had fallen lower and lower into the sky. They rode off into Stranglethorn Vale, again avoiding groups of wild animals and undead as they made their way north. By the time sunset hit, Alaria and Jul’zin had made it to the edge of Duskwood, and could see Elwynn Forest across the river.   
“Dis be as far as I go,” Jul’zin told her, dismounting his raptor. “Dem ‘lliance be like hawks ‘round da big city.”  
Alaria found herself conflicted as she jumped off Roojama, standing in front of Jul’zin. “Thank you,” she told him, struggling for words. “I… I would be dead if it weren’t for your kindness.”  
“Dat’s what I do,” he told her, his normally jovial tone of voice absent. “I teach ya ta fight da Kor’kron, so dat we all get Garrosh out da way.”   
Alaria hesitated, then embraced Jul’zin, wrapping her arms around his waist. She felt tears forming in her eyes as he returned the gesture, encircling her with his massive arms. She held him for a minute, beginning to shake as she pulled away.   
“’Member what Jul’zin taught ya, mon,” he told her. “An’ you be doin’ good. Da spirits always wit’ ya.”   
“Where will you stay?” she asked him. “It’s getting too dark to travel.”  
“Dere be lots o’ houses in Duskwood,” he said. “I pick one o’ dem for da night.”   
She nodded. “Thank you, Jul’zin.” She turned away, hiding the tears sliding down her violet cheeks. “I won’t ever forget what you’ve done for me.”  
“An’ Jul’zin won’t forget ‘bout dat pretty elf he help,” he said. “We meet again someday, ‘laria.”


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaria discovers where her loyalties lie and what her heart desires.

Alaria transformed into the purple bird, quickly flying away from the riverbank. She forced herself to avoid looking back, instead, flying straight to Stormwind. As she glided over the gates, she noticed that nothing had changed in the months she had been gone. Heroes looking for work still flooded the Trade District, and the canals were busy with those trying to improve their professional skills. She made her way to Stormwind Keep, gliding in as she had done many times before, and falling to the ground as she had done the same number of times. She finished her journey running up the hall to the center of the keep, stopping as she saw Velimn standing with a male night elf and a female worgen. ‘He’s alright,’ she realized, sighing. ‘Thank Elune.’  
“Alaria?” Vel looked at her, taking off his helmet. “Alaria, is that you?”  
“Vel!” She smiled, gasping as he grabbed her and held her to his massive chest.  
“By the Light,” he said quietly. “I thought they had gotten you for good!”  
“No,” she assured him. “I’m just fine. I learned about the Kor’kron strategies while I was away and recovering, so I know how we can fight them.”  
“Where’s all your gear?”  
“They took that. These aren’t actually mine.” She paused, debating on whether or not to elaborate.  
“Whose are they, then?” Vel released her, stepping back slightly.  
“A troll’s.” She sighed. ‘I might as well tell the truth. It’s the least I can do.’  
“You’re kidding, right?” Vel looked at his companions, who were interested in what Alaria had to say.  
“No,” she declared. “That same troll was the one who saved me from the Kor’kron, and he taught me their ways.”  
“He could have been sending you false information to bring back,” Vel speculated.  
“He wasn’t,” she assured him. “There’s no way Jul’zin would have done anything like that.”  
“Jul’zin? The Breaker?” Velimn shook his head. “That’s not who you’re talking about, is it?”  
“It is,” she affirmed.  
“You’re lucky you survived,” he gasped.  
“He willingly helped me out,” she defended. “I didn’t ask for his help. He gave it to me.”  
“Do you know how many people he’s killed, Horde and Alliance alike?”  
“I didn’t ask.” Alaria looked away. “I need to go get some of my gear,” she said.  
“I’ll get King Varian,” Velimn told her. “You should come right back.”

Alaria ran out of the keep, transforming and flying to the Dwarven District bank, where she withdrew several of her own pieces of equipment. “Good thing I have two sets,” she said to herself, withdrawing not only clothes, but jewelry, weapons, and trinkets as well. She gathered all her things, walking over to the nearby inn and borrowing a room momentarily to dress. ‘It’s nice to be wearing clothes that fit again.’ She returned to the center of the district, taking a deep breath. She transformed, again returning to the keep and meeting Velimn, his two companions, and King Varian himself.  
“Alaria Riverguard,” he said, a serious look spread across his face. “You’ve returned to us.”  
“Yes,” she responded. “I’ve learned quite a bit—”  
“Velimn tells me that you learned this from Jul’zin the Breaker. Is that correct?”  
“Yes.” Alaria nodded, refusing to deny it.  
“He can’t be trusted,” King Varian informed her. “He’s killed many of our heroes, as well as people from his own faction.”  
“He didn’t kill a soul while I was there,” Alaria argued.  
“We cannot trust any of the information that he has given you. It might be a trap.” King Varian turned to Vel and the other two. “I’m sending Velimn, Bruinda, and Mauv to Pandaria to gather some of our allies in the siege on Orgrimmar. Meanwhile, I need you, Alaria, to stay in Stormwind. Your recovery is essential.”  
“I am recovered,” she pointed out. “Jul’zin helped me get back my strength.”  
“Hero, do not argue with me.” King Varian glared down at her. “We must act in accordance with the plans we have drawn up. You will stay here, and you will rejoin Velimn after he returns from Pandaria. Understood?”  
“Yes.” Alaria bowed her head, biting her lip.  
“Get some rest, Alaria. Velimn, be ready to port.”

Alaria left the keep yet again, shaking her head. ‘I can’t do this,’ she thought. ‘Nothing seems right anymore!’ She flew out of the city, gliding into Goldshire. The normally bustling village was quiet with the late night atmosphere, and she walked into Lion’s Pride Inn, finding much the same situation. She sat down at a table, placing her head in her hands. ‘I can’t do this,’ she realized. ‘I can’t just sit here and wait. I can’t stay by myself, not after so long with Jul’zin. I can’t leave him behind.’ She stood up. ‘I can’t leave him behind! Elune, let him still be here!’ She rushed out of the inn, leaping into bird form and speeding over to Duskwood. She flew along the bank, finding nothing. She continued south, searching for a possible spot for Jul’zin to be staying. She ducked into house after house, finding only its worgen residents or the wind blowing through the shutters. She flew into the Yorgen Farmstead, which contained only two buildings. ‘This is the last spot,’ she realized, flying lower to the ground. ‘Moon Goddess, guide me.’ She landed in front of one of the buildings, peering in and finding nothing. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A ghoul had taken a particular interest in her, and it leaped at her, flailing its arms in aggression. She morphed into cat form, swatting at it twice before it fell dead to the ground. She reverted to her night elf form, seeing a bright cluster of feathers inside the second building. ‘Please, let it be!’ She walked closer to the building, noticing that the feathers sat atop a reptilian head. “Jul’zin!” she called, running into the building. “Jul’zin!” She gave a cry of surprise as an earthbind totem held her fast to the doorway, and Jul’zin groggily got to his feet, brandishing his axe. “Jul’zin!” she exclaimed.  
“Huh?” He looked at her, dropping his weapon. “’laria, what you doin’?”  
“Jul’zin!” She felt hot tears pouring from her eyes, and disregarded them. “I tried, I went back to the keep, but I realized I had made a mistake!”  
“Silly elf!” He recalled his totem, walking over to her. “What you talkin’ ‘bout?”  
“I can’t leave you!” She shook her head, grabbing him and pressing her head to his sculpted stomach. “I can’t do it!”  
Jul’zin put one hand on the back of her head, holding it, and his other hand across her back. “’laria, you know da spirits wit’ ya, mon.”  
“You don’t understand, Jul’zin.” She wept freely. “My teammate, my only partner, thought I was lying when I said you’d helped, and my king said that neither you nor I could be trusted because you had killed so many people. I know you’ve redeemed yourself through what you’ve done to help. I know you’re not that man anymore, that you’ve changed. I know that I’m supposed to stay with you, to help show that peace is possible!”  
“Silly, silly little elf. Ya know ya could be in big trouble, ya mon?”  
“None of it matters.” She paused, wiping her eyes. “We’re working towards peace for both the Horde and the Alliance. I’ve made my peace.”  
“’laria, ya talkin’ crazy.” Jul’zin leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to hers. “Ya know Jul’zin be a troll, mon.”  
“And I don’t care!” She sighed, blinking away more tears. “I know I’m supposed to stay with you.”  
“If ya really tink dat’s da case, we stay here for da night, den we get movin’ early.” Jul’zin smiled slightly “Dis ol’ troll don’t mind da company, if ya stayin, mon.”  
“I am staying. I have all the gear I need, and I won’t be missed. I’ve been replaced.”  
“Alright, mon. We be sleepin', dat way, we ready ta go.” He sat down against the wall, bringing his knees up. “Come ‘ere, silly elf. Jul’zin don’ want ya alone, ‘case dey be comin’ for ya, mon.”  
Alaria willingly obliged, sitting next to Jul’zin, who pulled her close. She rested her head on his chest, grabbing his hand. She bit her lip, still thinking. ‘Perhaps we should go to Pandaria,’ she thought, tangling her thin fingers with his massive appendages. ‘That’s mostly neutral, and none of the pandaren would care if we were together. That’s assuming he really wants me along, too! Oh, Goddess, what have I done?’

The next morning, Alaria was awakened by a gentle rocking, back and forth, as she sat on Roojama.  
“Mornin’,” Jul’zin greeted her, speeding up slightly. “Ya sleep like da undead, mon.”  
“How long have we been going?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.  
“Oh, maybe an hour or two,” he responded. “Not dat long, but long enough fo’ us to be gettin’ close ta da tip o’ Stranglethorn.”  
“Where are we going?”  
“Jul’zin don’t know, mon. He jus’ pick da way for a while, since ya been sleepin’. He figure he ask you when you got up.”  
“I don’t know where to go,” she admitted. “The Alliance will look for me, and the Horde for you.”  
“’haps we should go ta Dalaran,” he suggested. “Dey neutral up dere, so we be safe from all dat.” Jul’zin shrugged. “Unless ya have a better idea?”  
“Not really. It’s cold up in Northrend, though. Will you be alright?”  
“Nothin’ a bear skin won’t fix,” he answered. “’Sides, dere be ice trolls, mon. Dey survive jus’ fine.”  
“If you say so.” She smiled, urging Roojama forward. “We should get going, since we know where we’re going. How are we going to get to Northrend, though?”  
“I jus’ gonn’ smuggle ya on a zeppelin,” he informed her. “Dat, or I jus’ make somethin’ up.”  
“I trust you know what you’re doing,” Alaria said. “I know that an Alliance boat is definitely not the best way to get there. They’ll be more suspicious of you on a boat than me on a zeppelin.”  
“True, dat. Your ‘lliance be a superstitious lot, mon.”  
Alaria sighed. “They all are.” 

After much struggle, the two made it into Dalaran, where they were temporarily protected from either side, as the city itself was a sanctuary. Alaria walked alongside Jul’zin, who had wrapped his shoulders with the bear skin he had brought along. They made their way into a small inn, where Jul’zin purchased a room for the evening. They climbed the several flights of stairs, coming to rest in a small, cozy room overlooking the city. Alaria peered out the window as Jul’zin dropped his packs, pulling out several flasks.  
“’laria,” he said, throwing the bear skin on the floor. “Come sit wit’ Jul’zin.”  
She smiled, following him and sitting across from him. He handed her a flask, and she looked at it. “What’s this?”  
“Port,” he replied. “Drink it, mon. You need ta be celebratin’ dis, ‘cause you been makin’ lotsa decisions, and you still young.”  
“You’re not old,” she responded, opening the flask.  
“I older den you be,” he chuckled.  
She watched as Jul’zin maneuvered the flask between his tusks, drinking it in one fell swoop. She took a drink of hers, putting it down momentarily.  
“You like?” he asked her.  
“Yeah.” She drank some more, her stomach growing warm. “It’s good. I’ve never had anything like this.”  
“Neva?” He laughed, drinking a smaller flask of stout. “You missin’ out!”  
Alaria finished her port, feeling her cheeks becoming flushed with heat. “Really?” she asked.  
“Ya, mon.” He handed her a second flask of port, insisting she drink. “Let yaself go, mon. Da ‘lliance not be watchin’ ya right now.”  
“Did you pull the blinds?” she asked, taking a drink of the second flask.  
“No, but I can do dat.” He stood up, pulling the royal plum curtains over the window.  
“Now they really can’t see,” she giggled. Alaria drank some more, smiling as Jul’zin sat in front of her. “Aren’t you drinking some?”  
“Ya, mon. Dis be my third.” He held a bottle in his hand, and he popped the cork from the opening. “I had lots o’ dis in my house,” he explained. “I s’pose I was savin’ it for friends, but I never got visitors dat weren’t ‘lliance.”  
“Really?” Alaria laughed. “That’s kind of funny.”  
“Ya tink so?” Jul’zin drank from the bottle of Junglevine Wine, licking his lips. “Dis be good stuff,” he said, stifling a laugh and setting the bottle down.  
“Mmm hmm.” Alaria picked up the bottle of wine, putting it to her lips. “I’m gonna try this,” she said, taking a swig. “Wow,” she exclaimed, taking another drink. “I don’t think I like this.”  
“Den stop drinkin’ it, silly elf.” Jul’zin took the bottle back. “I do like dis.” He downed the rest of the bottle, putting it aside. “If ya don’ like it, jus’ give it t’ Jul’zin. He drink it.”  
Alaria, now drunk, fell over to the side, laughing. “I think this is funny,” she said. “A night elf… traveling with a troll.”  
“You da one who come back ta me.” Jul’zin drank a flagon of mead, smiling. “Not dat I mind so much.”  
“That’s good.” She pushed herself up, holding her head. “’Cause I’m… hic!.. I’m pretty sure I’m… hic!.. in love.”  
“Oh, really?” Jul’zin, pleasantly intoxicated himself, leaned up on his knees and put his face close to Alaria’s. “Jul’zin be tinkin’ so too. He not felt dis way before.”  
Alaria grabbed Jul’zin’s tusk, attempting to shake it. “What are these for, anyway?” she asked. “Are they… hic!.. weapons?”  
“Nah. Dey for lovemakin’,” Jul’zin laughed. “Dem lady trolls, dey look for big tusks on da men.” He grabbed her hand. “Cause dem big tusks mean somethin’ else too.”  
“If I wasn’t purple, you’d see I was blushing.” She giggled, falling over as she tried to adjust her position.  
“I can tell, mon.” Jul’zin ran his hand over the side of her face. “You be pretty when you smilin’, mon.” He pressed his forehead to hers, slouching down.  
“What in Elune’s name are we… hic!... doing…hic!.. in Dalaran?” Alaria stared at Jul’zin, sitting up. “Was this your idea?”  
“Nah, mon. Dis be your idea.” Jul’zin grabbed the final flagon of mead, drinking it. “Da drinkin’, now dat be my idea.” He nodded with satisfaction. “Dis be a good idea.”  
Alaria continued to giggle, several hiccups interrupting her. “What are you… hic!... doing?”  
“Jul’zin be figurin’ out how best ta get a taste o’ da night elf.” He smirked. “’Cause he be wantin’ dat fo’ a while now, mon.”  
“Alright,” she said, rather matter-of-factly. “I would… hic!... be alright with that.” She paused, staring at Jul’zin. “How do you…hic!... kiss someone with those?” Alaria reached out again, giving his left tusk a tug. “Don’t they…hic!... get in the way?”  
“Why don’t ya try it, mon?” A sneer crawled across Jul’zin’s face. “Den, ya can tell Jul’zin how it work.”  
Alaria stood up, feeling her head spinning. She fell into Jul’zin’s grasp, shrieking as he caught her. She felt her chest grow tight, and her hiccups disappeared. She stared up at Jul’zin, whose smile softened. She thought about how handsome the Horde men had become, particularly Jul’zin, since her stay outside Orgrimmar. She had never considered even friendly relations with someone outside of the Alliance factions; now, she was trying to figure out how to kiss a troll in her drunken stupor. Alaria felt Jul’zin’s arm shift behind her, his fingers tangling in her hair. She reached over his shoulders, putting her hands behind his neck. She leaned in closer to him, hesitating.  
“What ya waitin’ fo’?” he asked her, running his fingers along one of her pointed ears. “Jul’zin would’a kiss’d ya by now, but he don’t wanna hurt ya, mon. Da troll women, dey like dat, but he gon’ let ya try it.”  
Alaria kissed Jul’zin’s bottom lip, finding it protruding further forward with his tusks. She glanced at his tusk before reaching up and kissing his top lip. He maneuvered around her, eagerly accepting her kisses. She felt her nose press against the side of his face, and she reached for the relaxed smile that he still carried. She took his lip between hers, sighing as he squeezed her with his long, muscular arms. Alaria strained to reach him as his posture straightened, and she felt her feet leaving the ground. “Jul’zin,” she whispered as he stumbled back, slamming into the wall.  
“Mmm?” He looked down at her, laughing slightly. “Dis be more comfortable if I be holdin’ you up, ‘cause you elves be tiny. Da draenei be da only ones who come close ta da trolls, but dey got some bad voodoo, wit’ dem hooves—”  
“You’re drunk,” she told him, rubbing her lips along his.  
“You more drunk den I be.” He chuckled, slipping his arm underneath Alaria’s legs. “Ya ‘pparantly easy ta get drunk.”  
Alaria giggled. “That’s not true!” She kissed Jul’zin’s bottom lip. “I’ve just never had a drink like that before.”  
Jul’zin shook his head, smiling. “You be a funny elf.”  
Alaria closed her eyes, embracing Jul’zin.  
“We be changin’ history, ‘laria.”  
As she rubbed her lips on his, she thought about his statement. It was true— before now, she didn’t know of anyone striking up relations with someone from the other side. She knew that the Horde and the Alliance had worked together to defeat Deathwing, and that they were now working to overthrow Garrosh and restore peace to Azeroth, but never before had a Horde and an Alliance fallen in love. She shuddered as she felt Jul’zin’s heart pounding in his chest, the vibrations coursing through her own body. The cold metal of his necklace pressed against her breast, and she shivered, though she was burning with a passion that had been suppressed for months.  
“You should take off dem gloves, mon,” Jul’zin suggested, nuzzling her. “An’ dem boots. We gon’ be here fo’ a while, ‘laria.”  
“I can’t take off my boots,” she said, struggling against her tight leather gloves. “Or I might fall.”  
“I can put ya down, mon.” He laughed, stumbling over to the bed. “But don’ trust me, ‘cause I been drinkin’ too.”  
Alaria shrieked as Jul’zin dropped her, and he started chuckling. “Stop!” she exclaimed, falling back on the mattress as she tried to unbuckle her boot.  
“Ya make me laugh, mon.” He sat beside her, leaning back.  
“I’ll make you do something else,” she muttered, hiccupping.  
“Ya, mon?” He put his hand over hers. “What you gonna get me wit’?”  
“I dunno.” Her head spun as she removed her other boot.  
“I give you a different ting,” he suggested. “I give you some o’ dat jungle lovin’.” Jul’zin leaned over her, snickering.  
Alaria ran her fingers through Jul’zin’s bright pink hair, giggling again. She pulled his head down, maneuvering herself between his tusks and pressing her lips to his. She realized that, even though she had at first been just a wounded Alliance visitor, she had fallen deeply and completely in love.  
“laria,” Jul’zin said quietly, his voice rumbling like thunder in his throat. “Lemme tell ya somethin’.”  
“Hmm?” Alaria kissed his baby blue neck, reveling in his company.  
“I ne’er thought dat I be in dis place,” he told her, removing his bracers. “Wit’ a night elf. Da lady trolls, dey court me fo’ a while, ‘til I work for da Kor’kron. Den, I be killin’ lotsa heroes. ‘lliance an’ Horde, it didn’t matter, ‘cause I was workin’ for Garrosh. Den, I realize he gone bat-shit crazy, an’ I told meself dat I would help fight ‘gainst him any way I could. So, I be takin’ prisoners, an’ I gettin’ ‘em back ta health. Did dat fo’ over a year, methinks. But your king was right ‘bout me. I did kill lotsa people. Dat’s why I have dese scars.”  
Alaria hesitated momentarily. “It doesn’t matter,” she declared. “I love you anyways.”  
“I almost kill you once, ‘laria. I know why dat face look’d so familiar when dey brought ya over ta me.” He unbuckled his belt, dropping it and the trinkets attached to it to the ground. “I da reason you got dat scar.” He ran his fingers up her sleeve, running them across a small scar on her arm.  
“That means I gave you one, too,” she laughed. “So that means we’re even.”  
“I s’pose dat be alright.” He tugged on the metal ring, sitting in the center of her chest, that held her epaulets on her shoulders. “Why you still wearin’ dese?”  
“I don’t know,” she said bluntly. “Maybe ‘cause I put them on earlier, I dunno.”  
“You got a sharp tongue, pretty elf.” Jul’zin fumbled with the buckles holding the leather straps attached to the ring.  
“Maybe I can fight with it then,” she snickered, helping Jul’zin to remove her shoulderpads.  
“Jul’zin wanna be part o’ dat fight, mon.”  
Alaria reached out, tracing the scars on Jul’zin’s chest with her fingers. He laughed slightly, resting his arm underneath her head and holding himself above her. She removed her own belt and trinkets, throwing them in the growing pile of gear. Slowly, Jul’zin helped to maneuver her completely on the bed, and he turned them so that their heads were to the two pathetic down pillows resting at the top. Alaria reached back, grabbing one as she kissed Jul’zin, and promptly hit him, startling him.  
“’Ey!” he exclaimed, pulling back and resting on his knees. “What dat be ‘bout?”  
Alaria continued to snicker, poking at Jul’zin’s arm with the limp pillow.  
“Dat be a sad little weapon,” he pointed out, grabbing the other one. “An’ Jul’zin’s got one, mon.”  
She squealed as Jul’zin returned her favor, kicking her feet as she laughed. She watched as Jul’zin chucked the pillow aside, falling over himself and coming to rest his head on her stomach. She burst into a laughing fit, Jul’zin chuckling as well.  
“Stop dat,” he said, sliding one hand beneath her chestplate. “It hard ta sleep when da pillow be movin’.”  
“I’m not a pillow!”  
“You be smashed, mon.”  
“So are you!”  
“Not quite as much as you be, mon.”  
Alaria sighed, closing her eyes as she toyed with the rings in Jul’zin’s ears. “You’re mighty handsome,” she told him, half-aware of what she was saying.  
“An’ you be jammin’, mon.”  
She didn’t reply, instead, thinking about the distance she had traveled in such a short period of time— from Orgrimmar to Rachet, across the Maelstrom to Booty Bay, up to Stormwind, back to Rachet, and up to Dalaran— all to spend time with the Horde man she had come to adore. She wondered if he appreciated her presence as much as she did his; in fact, she realized that she was willing to travel across time and space for him, and that nothing, not the Warchief nor King Varian, could change her mind.


	3. A Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaria and Jul'zin take a dangerous trip through the Firelands of Hyjal, putting both their lives at stake.

“I don’t want tocross through the Firelands.” Alaria sat on Roojama, looking at the molten landscape before her.   
“We tryin’ ta go north, mon. Dat’s da way we goin’.” Jul’zin rode slightly ahead of her. “Dis not da safest, but it be da fastest. I can heal, an’ ya be doin’ damage, or I be doin’ damage too.”   
“Or, we could go around.” Alaria suggested.  
“Dat’s quite a long ways, mon.”   
“It’s safer.”  
“Maybe jus’ a bit.” Jul’zin started down the rocky path leading into the Firelands.   
“I’m not so sure about this, Jul.”   
“You gon’ be fine, ‘laria. We got da spirits wit’ us.”   
Alaria hesitantly followed Jul’zin, immediately recoiling with the intense heat blowing in her face. “It’s miserable,” she noted.   
“Dat why we don’ live ‘ere, mon.” Jul’zin chuckled slightly.   
Alaria held her breath as they passed a giant, molten colossus. “This really isn’t safe,” she said.  
“I know, mon. We jus’ gotta keep movin’.” Jul’zin made a sudden stop as a patrol crossed the path. “An’ watch our backs.”   
“We should turn back before we get any farther,” Alaria said. “I feel like something bad is going to happen.”  
“You jus’ bein’ superstitious, love.”   
Alaria shrieked as a group of core hounds spotted them , and came charging at them. “Jul’zin!”  
“Let’s go, ‘laria!” Jul’zin grabbed Roojama’s reins, pulling her and Alaria alongside him. “We jus’ gon’ run!”   
Alaria looked over her shoulder, noticing that the core hounds were in pursuit. “They’re not stopping!”  
“Dey will ‘ventually!” Jul’zin steered them away from a large scorpion, running close to the edge of a lava pool.   
“Watch out!” Alaria pulled Roojama’s reins from Jul’zin’s hand, running into him and taking a fiery blast from the corehounds. She fell, scrambling to her feet and shifting immediately into her bear form.   
“’laria!” Jul’zin turned, jumping down and dropping several totems. A rocky guardian emerged from one, and immediately started on one of the hounds.   
Alaria swatted at the other two hounds, drawing their attention and immediately taking damage from their molten hides. ‘There’s no way I can fight these by myself!’ she realized, growling. ‘I don’t know how long I can hold them!’ She turned her head as a wave of lightning ran beneath her feet, throwing the core hounds back several feet. Jul’zin drew his axe and shield, bringing his hands together and throwing a stream of lightning, which jumped across each hound. Alaria swatted at them again, keeping their attentions on her. She howled as one of the hounds bit down on her haunch, and she turned, biting back. Jul’zin’s rock guardian had successfully separated one of the hounds from the group, giving them a short period of time to deal with the other two. Alaria transformed into her cat form, swiping across their rocky flanks and drawing blood with her first strike. They turned, meeting a pounce. Alaria tore at their hides, roaring when she was thrown to the ground. Jul’zin, meanwhile, had successfully given the elementals burns, and he continued to strike them with his lightning. Alaria, slowly losing energy, persisted, chipping away at their health. By the time she felled the two, she was completely exhausted. She looked at Jul’zin’s earth totem, which crumbled to pieces. ‘For the love of Elune,’ she thought, watching as the core hound started towards her. ‘There’s one left!’   
“’laria, dis way!”   
Alaria started towards Jul’zin moments too late, attracting the attentions of a small group of flamewalkers. They slithered over, weapons drawn and spells at the ready. Alaria, unprepared, received a blow to the head, knocking her from her cat form and to the ground, and causing blood to pour down the side of her face. Jul’zin placed a healing totem, casting an earthquake before her. The flamewalkers slithered right into its path, and they were stunned and received minor wounds. Jul’zin grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. He dropped an earthbind totem, rooting the group to the ground while he cast a chain lightning. Alaria, determined, shifted back into bear form, roaring at the group and pulling their attentions. She hit one of the overseers, who returned the favor with a massive cleave, striking both her and Jul’zin with his fiery blade. Jul’zin, blood dripping down his chest, dropped yet another totem, which began to emit small fire novas. Alaria bit the same overseer, becoming frustrated as she realized he was being healed by one of the other flamewalkers. She roared, swiping at the healer and drawing his gaze. Alaria pulled him from the group, biting at him. As soon as she released her grip, she realized that her drive was depleted, and her limbs became heavy.  
“’laria, move!”  
She looked up, screaming as the overseer brought his blade down upon her shoulder, dropping her night elf body to the ground. Bleeding profusely, Alaria pushed herself to her feet, drawing her polearm. She swang the weapon towards the group, only to have it pulled from her fingers by one of the flamewalkers.   
Jul’zin instantly went into a shamanistic rage, his spells coming more frequently and with more power. The chain lightnings jumped from creature to creature, causing them to turn their aggression towards him.   
“Jul’zin,” she said, head spinning. “Go! I’ve got them!”  
“You crazy, ‘laria!” Jul’zin dropped a fire totem, an elemental springing from its roots. Jul’zin attacked the overseer, showing the elemental guardian where to go. The flamewalker healers, however, moved faster than they could take the overseer’s health, and managed to keep their leader’s health nearly complete.   
Alaria gasped as a fireball struck her in the chest, and she fell to her knees, swaying momentarily before falling forward and unconscious.   
Jul’zin created a thunderstorm, throwing the monsters back several metres. He picked Alaria up, cradling her in his shield arm. He cast a lightning bolt, distracting a healer as he backed away. He then dropped another earthbind totem, rooting them to the ground. Jul’zin used this as an opportunity, and he ran, carrying Alaria with him. Unable to mount, Jul’zin traversed the numerous rocks and lava pools with great dexterity, but under fire by the flamewalkers. He came to the edge of a short cliff, and he jumped, collapsing as he collided with the ground. Still, the flamewalkers pelted them with fire and spears, several slicing across Jul’zin’s arms and one burying itself in his shoulder. He grabbed the wooden shaft, breaking the end of the spear off and throwing it down. He looked at the blood coating his hands, and realized that he had to find a way out of the Firelands before he could stop and treat Alaria. He winced as another fireball dropped on his shoulder, and he continued forward, stumbling over rocks and making great efforts to avoid the lava. After a lengthy run, Jul’zin finally managed to lose the attentions of the flamewalkers. He whistled for Ful’imal, who came bounding from behind a rocky crag. He put Alaria on Ful’imal’s back, then hopped on himself, urging the raptor forward. 

 

Alaria opened her eyes, seeing Jul’zin looming over her. She reached up to her head, only to meet Jul’zin’s hand.  
“I sorry, mon,” he said quietly. “I still be workin’ on dat.”   
“Where are we?” she asked, confused.   
“We near da great tree,” he responded. “Da druids, dey keep da place patrolled.” Jul’zin tore a strip of cloth with his teeth, then proceeded to wrap it around Alaria’s head.   
“You’re bleeding,” she noticed, reaching up to touch his chest.   
“Not as much as you be, ‘laria. I take care o’ meself afta I get ya fixed.”  
“I’m sorry I didn’t run.” Tears welled in Alaria’s eyes.  
“No,” Jul’zin said sternly. “Dis be my fault. I da one who need ta ‘pologize. I da one dat almost got ya killed.” He placed a simple heal on Alaria’s breast, placing his hand over her heart. “I da one who shoulda been in dis position.”  
“I’m a tank,” she replied, smiling slightly. “It’s what I do.”   
Jul’zin shook his head, wincing. “I da man. I s’posed ta protect da lady.”  
“I’m alive, aren’t I?” She sighed, closing her eyes. “That’s what matters. We’re both alive.”   
“’laria, you too kind. Da lady troll, dey be wailin’ on Jul’zin if sometin’ like dis happen. He be black an’ blue all ova afta dey finish wit’ ‘im.” He blinked. “I dunno what I do if dey had taken ya, mon.”   
Alaria pushed herself upright, the cloak falling from her chest. “Where’s my tunic?” she asked, dazed.   
“Jul’zin take it off, ‘cause it be burnin’ ya. He got it soakin’ in wata so dat it be cool’d off.” He sat in front of her. “Ya should be lyin’ down, ‘laria.”  
“But you’re hurt,” she argued. “What’s that?” She motioned to his shoulder.   
“Dem flamewalkers, dey throw spears. Dat one stuck me, an’ I couldn’t get it out, so I broke it. Made da travellin’ easier.”  
“Turn around,” Alaria ordered. “I’ll fix it.”  
“Ya can’ hardly see straight, mon. I be fine for a little while longa.”   
“No.” Alaria scooted herself over to him. “Turn around.”  
“Ya, mon.” Defeated, Jul’zin obliged. “But don’ hurt yaself in da process. Jul’zin used ta dis sort o’ ting.”  
Alaria wrapped her fingers around the broken spear shaft, placing her other hand on his shoulder. “This is going to hurt,” she warned him.  
“I know, love.”   
Alaria took a deep breath, then yanked the spear from Jul’zin’s shoulder. He grunted, gritting his teeth so that she wouldn’t hear him cry out, and she dropped the speartip, resting her head on his shoulder.   
“’laria should rest,” Jul’zin said, beginning to bandage his arm. “Jul’zin takin’ care o’ hisself.”  
“I’ll stay up until you’re fixed,” she said, pulling her cloak back up over her chest.   
“Dat may be a while,” he pointed out. “Jul’zin got his share o’ da wounds too.”  
“I’ll stay up as long as I can.” She scooted next to him, taking a deep breath.   
Alaria didn’t make it long, and she fell asleep on Jul’zin’s lap. After he had finished bandaging himself, he sighed, running his hand down Alaria’s cheek and shoulder. ‘I neva been so scared in my life,’ he thought. ‘I tought I lost ‘er, an’ dat hurt more den any o’ dese wounds. Jul’zin felt his heart bein’ pulled on an’ crushed unda da spirits’ fists.’ He looked longingly on her resting form, tears running down his blood-spattered, ash-covered cheeks. ‘Dis elf, she be what I got in dis world. Wit’out dat, dis world not so bright, an’ not worth livin’ in.’   
 


	4. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaria takes a trip with Jul'zin back to his childhood home.

“’laria, Jul’zin need ta take a trip.”  
“Where to?”   
“He gotta go back ta da isles.” Jul’zin looked up. “He go dere e’ery year ta help his brutha an’ his sista.”  
“The Echo Isles?”  
“Dat’s where I grew up, mon. Dat’s where I go back ta.” He paused. “Ya don’ hafta go wit’ Jul’zin, but he gotta go. It only be fo’ a little while, so he won’ be gone too long.”  
“I’ll go with you,” Alaria said.   
“Ya sure? Ya gon’ be surrounded by my people.”  
“You’re going to be there.”  
“Dat true. At da start, ya might wanna be in da cat form, jus’ ‘til I can ‘xplain tings ta da chief.”  
“Are you saying they’ll attack me?”  
“Well, I dunno. Ya be ‘lliance.”  
Alaria looked to her feet. “Would you rather I went and stayed elsewhere?”  
“No!” he replied quickly, shaking his head. “’Course not, mon! I take ya wit’ me if ya wanna.”  
She looked back up, meeting Jul’zin’s eyes. “When are we leaving?”   
“Ya ready now, love?” He whistled for Ful’imal.  
“Sure.” She watched as the massive raptor approached them. “He still doesn’t like me,” she noted.   
“He take a while ta warm up ta strangas.”  
“I’ve been with you for a long time!” She shrieked as Jul’zin placed her on the raptor’s back. “Where are you going to ride? This is your raptor—”  
“Dey both be my raptors.” Jul’zin jumped behind Alaria. “I jus’ lettin’ ya borrow my Roojama.. She needed some rest, so we leavin’ her in Dalaran fo’ a while. Dat’s why she not here.” He wrapped his arm around Alaria’s waist, resting his hand on his thigh. “Ya drivin’?”  
“Sure,” she offered. “If Ful’imal will listen.”  
“He listen.” He handed the reins to Alaria, resting his head on her shoulder.   
Alaria smiled and started Ful’imal forward. “Where are we going?”  
“Durotar, mon. It be a long ride. We prolly gon’ stop dis evening fo’ sleep, ‘cause Ful’imal gon’ need ta rest.”  
As they rode, there was little conversation between the two, but Alaria reveled in Jul’zin’s company. She took deep breaths, the smell of the swamp and Jul’zin’s sweat tingling her nose. Alaria realized that she found nearly everything about Jul’zin attractive now— the way a few strands of his bright magenta hair fell over his left brow, the roughness of his weathered palms, the way his dozen earrings clanked as he walked— except for his snoring, which nearly shook the earth they lay upon, even when she tried to muffle him. Right now, as she guided Ful’imal, she admired his tusks. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught their upward twist, noticing a crack in his right tusk that hadn’t made it completely through the bone, and the dull ivory color that shone when the light caught it just right. She reached up and put her fingers on the end, tracing the small engravings that decorated it.   
“What ya doin’, mon?” Jul’zin put his hand on her knee. “Dat tickles.”   
“Oh!” She snapped out of her daze, putting her hand back on the reins.   
“Ya like dem?” He laughed slightly.  
“Yeah.”   
“Dey small, really. My brutha has tusks dat be longer den a gnome.”  
“Yours are easier to navigate then.” Alaria giggled.   
“Well, da lady trolls, dey don’ care much fo’ da kissin’.” Jul’zin closed his eyes. “But Jul’zin do like da kissin’.”  
Alaria listened to Jul’zin’s steady breathing, the evenness lulling her to drowsiness. ‘He’s so warm,’ she realized as they rode up the rocky path. ‘No wonder Dalaran wasn’t as cold as I remembered it being.’ Suddenly, a bird flew into her, and she screamed.   
“My turn ta drive?” Jul’zin asked. “Ya gettin’ sleepy, mon.”  
“I’m fine,” she insisted.   
“Lemme take it,” he said, sitting up. “Dat way, we go a little longa.”  
“Jul…”  
“’laria.” Jul’zin mocked her, turning Ful’imal down a thin trail. “Ya not gon’ win ‘gainst me, mon. I got da uppa hand.”  
“Alaria crossed her arms in front of her chest. “That’s not fair.”   
“It only be ‘cause I love ya, mon. I don’ tease dem othah ‘lliance.”

The next day, Alaria and Jul’zin found themselves near Sen’jin Village.   
“Ya wanna go ‘head an’ switch ta da cat?” Jul’zin suggested. “Dat way, we try ta ‘void da trolls here. Dey not so kind ta ‘lliance.”  
“Alright.” Alaria transformed, shrinking beside Jul’zin to her feline form.  
“Jus’ stay close ta Jul’zin. He get us through.”  
She crept beside Jul’zin as they walked through the village. Trolls approached Jul’zin left and right, greeting him with fist bumps and “how ya doin’?”s. They made their way to the docks, and Jul’zin picked Alaria up, tucking her underneath his arm. Her cat instincts caused her to panic, but she quickly relaxed as Jul’zin rubbed behind her ears.He jumped off the dock onto a small raft, which rocked when he collided with it. He guided Ful’imal down, the raptor reluctant. Alaria sat as Jul’zin put her on the raft, watching him grab a larg oar and pushing them out into deeper water. She felt herself start to grow anxious as they neared the isles and their inhabitants grew clearer. When they landed, Jul’zin jumped down, wading out slightly to grab Ful’imal. She followed at his beckoning, her fur soaking up the warm island waters. Jul’zin jumped on Ful’imal’s back, riding up the path. Alaria ran to catch up, coming to a skidding halt as several trolls, all holding weapons, approached Jul’zin.   
“What ya be doin’ ‘ere, mon?” One of the trolls stepped forward, eyeing Jul’zin. “Dere be no outsidas ‘ere, mon.”  
“I be da witch docta,” Jul’zin informed them. “Ask Mandavo if ya tink I be lyin’.”   
“Ya know da chief?”  
“I be his brutha!” Jul’zin shook his head. “Ya be green, mon.”  
“Well den, welcome.” He looked at Alaria. “What dat?”  
“Dat be my pet.”  
“You a hunta?”  
“I be a shaman wit’ a pet. Ya askin’ too many questions, mon! Jus’ lemme speak wit’ da chief.”  
Jul’zin continued forward as the guards moved aside, keeping his eyes peeled. Soon, they made it to the heart of the village, where trolls of every age were out training and working. He got several greetings, kisses from the older women of the tribe, and hugs from children he had looked after on previous visits. Alaria slinked behind him, avoiding most of the people but receiving various growls and snaps from the tamed raptors meandering through the encampment. ‘He’s well liked,’ she noticed. ‘Will I mess that up for him?’ She watched Jul’zin jump from Ful’imal’s back, approaching a troll who looked equally, if not more, wild than Jul’zin.   
“’Ey, Mandavo!” Jul’zin shouted. “Ya gnome-kissin’ bastard!”   
“Who dat?” Mandavo looked up, a sly grin crawling across his lips. “Jul’zin, how ya doin’?”  
Jul’zin approached Mandavo, grabbing his hand and knocking his forehead against Mandavo’s. “I be doin’ good, mon. Livin’ easy. How ‘bout da village?”  
“Oh, da usual. Not’in’ much, jus’ da huntin’ an’ da trainin’.” He laughed heartily. “But my woman, she bringin’ us a little one.”   
“Way ta go, mon!” Jul’zin gave Mandavo a fist bump. “’bout time ya got anotha warrior in da house!”  
“Well, dere were tings dat we had ta take care of first.” Mandavo looked at Alaria, squinting. “What dat? You didn’t bring a pet da last time.”  
“Oh, dis.” Jul’zin paused. “Let us talk, brutha.” He turned to Alaria. “Stay ‘ere, pet,” he said, patting her on the head. “Jul’zin be back.” 

Alaria laid down on the dusty ground, resting her head on her paws. ‘I hope he isn’t gone long,’ she thought. ‘I’m honestly afraid of this many trolls. They completely outnumber me, and there’s no way I could defend myself.” She watched as a group of children played in the distant grass, throwing fake spears at each other. One of them turned, spotting her. She raised her head, her ears pulling back slightly as the group of three children walked up to her.  
“What dis?” one asked, poking Alaria’s side. “It look like da druids.”  
“But it don’ got tusks,” another pointed out. “It swim from da otha lands?”  
“It soft!” The little girl troll pet Alaria, smoothing the raised hair on her shoulders.   
“Really?” The others, two boys, put their growing hands on Alaria’s head and haunch.   
Alaria tried tomaintain patience, her tail switching back and forth.  
“Do it play?” the girl asked.   
“I tink it play.” The second boy picked up a stick, throwing it several feet away. “Do ya play?”  
Alaria, unwanting to break her illusion, jumped up, trotting over and grabbing the stick. She dropped it at the boy’s feet, then looked up at him.  
“’ey!” The boy jumped up and down, his green dreadlocks bouncing on his shoulders.   
“Ya mon!” The other boy took the stick, throwing it in the opposite direction.   
Alaria jogged over to the stick, picking it up and walking over to the children. She watched as the boy reached for it, then bounded back, her tail slowly swaying.   
“’Ey! It want us to play, too!” The girl approached Alaria, adjusting her tangerine ponytail.   
“Den we play, ya?”  
Alaria ran with the stick, the children laughing and chasing after her. ‘This isn’t so bad,’ she thought. ‘They’re kind of cute, thinking they can keep up with me. Thank Elune they don’t know I’m a night elf.’ She dropped the stick, then jumped to the boy with the blue braid, nipping at his toes.   
“’Ey!” he exclaimed. “Dose my feet, mon!”  
The other children laughed, and engaged in the game of tag that Alaria had started. After a few minutes, Jul’zin and Mandavo returned, Mandavo’s brow furrowed.   
“’Ey, kids!” he shouted. “Ya should be practicin’ now! It be dat time!”  
“Sorry, chief,” the girl said. “We go back.” She petted Alaria again, giggling as she ran off with the boys in tow.   
“Jul’zin, ya sayin’ dat dis cat be ‘lliance dat you bringin’ on ta da isles?”  
“She wit’ me,” he assured him.   
“Why you ‘avin’ a ‘lliance wit’ ya when dere be so many ‘orde dat be so jammin’?” Mandavo looked down at Alaria, who cowered before him. “Dis cat?”  
“Ya, mon. I pick ‘er. She diff’rent den da othas.” Jul’zin paused. “Mandavo, ya gotta trust Jul’zin on dis one.”  
“What she look like?” Mandavo crouched in front of Alaria, looking her in the eyes.   
“She show you if ya want.”  
“Is she stayin’ in a cat through da party?”  
“I don’ tink so. Dat be a long time fo’ ‘er ta stay like dat. She like walkin’ on two feet.”  
“Den I wanna see da woman.” He took a step back. “An’ brutha, if she do sometin’ bad, I ne’er forgive ya.”  
“I ‘ccept dat, ‘davo. I be takin’ ‘sponsibility fo’ ‘er.” Jul’zin nodded. “’laria, ya can come out o’ da cat form.”  
Alaria hesitated, stepping back slightly as Mandavo stared at her. Upon her transformation, she found herself face-to-face with Mandavo. ‘He’s huge,’ she thought, shaking. ‘Even bigger than Jul’zin.’  
“Dis?” Mandavo grabbed one of Alaria’s ears, pulling it and letting it snap back. “Dis be what ya courtin’?”  
“Ya, mon.” Jul’zin smiled slightly. “Dere be sometin’ diff’r’nt ‘bout ‘er.”  
“Oh, ya?” Madavo stood up, looking down on Alaria. “She tiny.”  
“Jul’zin like dat. Less o’ a hassle, if ya know what he mean.”  
“Ya, Mandavo get ya.” He laughed slightly. “What da name?” he asked Alaria.   
She found herself unable to speak for a few seconds. “Alaria,” she finally saidfalling to a knee.   
“Hmm. Dat be funny.” He looked at Jul’zin. “If ya take care o’ ya pet, I don’ care. I be expectin’ a big celebration in two nights. Me wife been mixin’ up da smokin’ stuff, an’ it be a good batch.” Mandavo punched Jul’zin on the arm. “It be good seein’ ya, docta! I leave ya ta prepare what ya need! Ya jus’ come an’ get Mandavo if ya find ya be outta sometin’ in da hut.”  
“I owe ya one, brutha.” Jul’zin returned the favor, then nodded for Alaria to stand. “I get ta workin’.” 

Alaria stood, rooted to her spot, until Mandavo was well out of earshot. “Jul’zin?” she asked.   
“Don’ worry, mon.” Jul’zin wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “He be okay wit’ it. Ya jus’ gotta watch yaself. Not dat I tink ya gon’ do sometin’ bad.” He started walking, pulling her along with him. “I got a little place here ta do my work, so we be stayin’ dere. I get ya some clothes, too, ‘cause dat jerkin not be so comfortable on da isles. We ‘ere late, so da heat not so bad, but it will be ‘morrow, I can feel it.” Jul’zin paused. “An’ dat way, da rest o’ dem see ya mine, so dey leave ya ‘lone.” He ducked into a small hut, sighing. “Yup. Dey always leave it jus’ like I leave it.” He welcomed Alaria in. “Dis be where I stay for a long time when I up ‘ere, livin’ wit da Darkspear.”  
Alaria walked in, immediately feeling cramped. “This isn’t hardly big enough for you, let alone the both of us,” she said.  
“We make it work, ‘laria.” He began rifling through a wooden chest. “Jul’zin know dat he has some clothes for ya, mon. He jus’ gotta find dem.”   
“I’ll be fine, honestly—”  
“If Jul’zin be bringin’ ya ‘ere, da least he can do is make sure ya safe an’ comfortable.” He pulled out a small top and a pair of shorts, both tan. “Ya should wear dese,” he suggested. “Dey use ta be my sista’s, but she say keep dem if I bring a lady ‘ome. An’ guess what? I bring a lady ‘ome.” Jul’zin laughed heartily, tossing the clothes to Alaria. “If ya want, Jul’zin step out fo’ a moment.”  
“Sure,” Alaria said.  
“I go an’ find me sista, den I be back.” He ran his hand across her cheek. “I won’ be long.”  
Alaria waited until Jul’zin had left the hut before dropping some of her gear. ‘I guess I won’t be needing these,’ she thought, dropping her backpacks. ‘And it is kind of hot.’ She struggled out of her epaulets and jerkin, then slipped the shirt on. It was much cooler, as her entire midriff was uncovered, and there were only two thick straps holding the shirt on her shoulders. She then stepped out of her boots and pants, then put on the shorts. ‘I can’t go barefoot,’ she decided, putting her boots back on. ‘Though I feel silly. I wonder what my friends would think of me if they saw me now. They’d probably think I’d gone crazy.’ She took off her necklace and rings, sticking them in her backpack with the rest of her clothes. She sat on the stool next to the small table, then waited for Jul’zin. After about half an hour, he returned. Upon seeing Alaria, his eyes lit up.  
“Ya lookin’ good, mon,” he complimented her, taking off his bracers.   
“Thanks,” she replied, skeptical.  
“Dem otha trolls gon’ be jealous dat I has such a tasty woman wit’ me.”  
“Tasty?”  
“Mmm. I could eat ya up right now,” he laughed, smirking.   
Alaria felt her cheeks grow warm. “Stop that,” she murmured.   
“Jul’zin be tinkin, what should he eat wit’ ‘laria? Maybe sometin’ spicy, cause she sweet.”  
“Quit that!” she exclaimed, still blushing.   
“Or sometin’ sweet, cause she spicy? Jul’zin can’t decide, mon.” He took off his necklace, slipping it over Alaria’s head. “You wear dis,” he instructed. “Dey not touch ya dat way, cause dat be mine.”  
“What about you?”  
“I da witch docta, I has some tings I gotta wear. We gon’ celebrate, an’ I gotta be dressed up.”  
“What are we celebrating?”  
“Da day we took back da isles.” Jul’zin took off his belt and trinkets, setting them with his bracers. “An’ we party like you neva partied befo’.”   
Alaria put her fingers on Jul’zin’s necklace, which was still warm from sitting against his chest. “Are you sure you don’t want me to just stay up here, out of the way?”  
“No. You be comin’ down. I want ya ta see what we do, mon. An’ dat way, I still get ta be lookin’ at ya. Jul’zin can’t see ya if ya far ‘way.”  
Alaria watched as Jul’zin took off his kilt, grabbing a long, decorated breechcloth hanging on a peg. He slipped it on, pulling it tight. He then sat down, tying thick, leather bands around his muscular thighs.   
“Dis be what da witch docta wear fo’ long time,” he explained, tying leather bracers decorated with red and white feathers around his wrists. “Dis be how dey ‘ppease da spirits.” He put a flat collar, colored in much the same fashion, over his head and let it rest on his chest. “’sides, dis how da rest o’ dem recognize Jul’zin.” He grabbed a headdress, placing it on the table. “I not gon’ wear dat ‘til da ceremony,” he explained. “It not so nice wit’ Jul’zin.”  
Alaria jumped as Jul’zin appeared in front of her, squatting in his particular manner. “What ya tink? We so bad?” He smiled.   
“No, you’re not,” Alaria replied. “Why would I think that?”  
“Well, we be ‘orde, afta all. Ya been ‘lliance fo’ years, mon.”   
“Well, you didn’t think I was so bad, and you’ve been Horde.”  
“True, dat.”

Two days later, Jul’zin and Alaria sat inside the hut, making the final preparations for the evening’s celebrations.   
“What are you doing?” She asked.  
Jul’zin looked up at her, a dagger to his palm. “Makin’ a blood sacrifice, mon.”  
“What?” Alaria gasped.   
“Da witch docta’s job is ta ‘ppease da spirits, and da spirits tell me dat da village need ta drink da blood of da docta fo’ good luck in da next year.” He motioned to a decorated wooden bowl. “Grab dat, would ya?”  
Alaria picked it up, but hesitated. “Is this really necessary?” she asked.   
“I been doin’ dis fo’ years. Don’ ya worry ya pretty little self.” Jul’zin sat his dagger down, taking the bowl from Alaria. “I use ta dis. It don’ hurt like it use ta.” He replaced the dagger in his hand. “Ya don’ hafta watch, ‘laria. My sista would be more dan happy ta have ya help down in da village.”  
“No, I’ll stay.” Alaria swallowed the lump in her throat.   
“If ya say so.” Jul’zin dug the blade in his palm, wincing slightly as he dragged it across his hand and through the muscle. Blood began pouring from the wound, and he let it drip into the bowl. “Gotta get ‘nough o’ dis fo’ da whole village.”  
“What?”   
“Dey not gon’ take buckets,” he said, laughing. “Jus’ ‘nough fo’ a little taste.”  
“Doesn’t all blood taste the same?” Alaria mumbled.   
“Da troll blood be a little different, ‘cause we regenerate, so it made different den da night elf or da tauren.” Jul’zin sighed as his hand bled profusely. “But I do what da spirits tell me ta do.”  
“If the spirits told you to kill me, would you?” She let a stern look cross her face.  
“Dat crazy talk. Da spirits don’ want da killin’.”  
“Then why are you giving them blood?”  
“I not killin’ fo’ it. I givin’ it up meself.”  
Alaria huffed. “I don’t like it.”  
“I sorry, ‘laria. It sometin’ Jul’zin gotta do.” He looked down in the bowl, which had nearly an inch of his blood sitting on the bottom. “Almost,” he said.   
“So, what does this celebration consist of?”  
“It a big party. Dere be dancin’an’ smokin’ an’ eatin’ an’ lovemakin’.” He laughed. “Dis be da time o’ year we don’ have many little ones, cause dey come nine months lata.” Jul’zin grabbed a strip of linen sitting on his knee. “Dere,” he said, more to himself. “We done wit’ dat, now.”  
“Do you want some help?” Alaria offered, watching him struggle to wrap the bandage around his hand.   
“Jul’zin be grateful,” he said. “He normally don’ have da help. Da one time he did, da woman jus’ watch an’ laugh.”  
Alaria took the bandage, placing the end of it in the center of his hand. She daintily held it there, not wanting to bloody her own fingers, until she made the wrapping several times around. “I don’t see how this could be funny.”  
“Well, you not a troll.” He smiled. “We gon’ have fun tonight, mon. Trust me.”  
“I do.” She tucked the tail end of the bandage into the folds. “I’m just kind of worried.”  
“Da othas won’ care. Half o’ dem be smashed already.” Jul’zin picked up the bowl, setting it on the table. “Ya worry too much, ‘laria. Ya make yaself sick wit’ worry.”  
She didn’t reply, realizing that Jul’zin was right— she had always worried herself sick, both at the present and in the past.   
“Come on.” Jul’zin offered her his other hand. “We go down to da village now, an’ start gettin’ tings ready, ya?”  
“You’re in charge.” Alaria placed her hand in his palm, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “I’m just following you.”  
“Well, I don’ wanna make ya do sometin’ ya don’ wanna.” He grabbed the headdress that had been sitting in the corner since they arrived. “An’ if ya get down dere an’ ya don’ wanna, ya can come back up ‘ere or ya can find me brutha or me sista an’ dey find sometin’ fo’ ya. Dem kiddies, dey seem ta like ya, too.”   
“They’re cute.”  
“To tink, Jul’zin look like dat one time.” He chuckled as he placed the crown of feathers on his head. “Den, he grow up.”   
“I don’t mind that you grew up.” Alaria felt her cheeks grow warm.   
“Well, Jul’zin like dat.” He leaned over, nudging her with his forehead. “’Cause he still be here if he hadn’t, which mean he not met ‘laria.”  
Alaria jumped as Jul’zin handed her the dagger he had used to gather his blood. “What do we need this for?” she asked.  
“Trust Jul’zin,” he requested. “He do dis e’ery year.”   
She pursed her lips in dissatisfaction as he grabbed the bowl, holding it tightly.   
“We gon’ move slow,” he said. “’Cause Jul’zin don’ wanna drop dis. He do dat one time, an’ he had ta go an’ cut his otha hand ta fix it.”   
They made their way down to the village, where the other trolls were making preparations for the night’s festivities. A large bonfire had already been started, and many were already drinking the home-distilled liquors from waterskins and empty coconut shells.   
“Where do you sit?” Alaria asked.  
“Right dere.” Jul’zin pointed to an empty patch of dirt on one side of the fire. “I gotta be able ta see all da trolls here.”   
“Brutha!” Mandavo approached them, smiling. “You be ready fo’ da night?”  
“Can’t wait,” he replied. “Ya got da paint on early, mon.”  
“Well, it not be far away. Ya should find Guchi’a an’ get ‘er ta paint ya up right, ‘cause dat hat don’ do much wit’out da paint.”  
“True, dat.” He extended his arms with the bowl. “Dis look like ‘nough?”  
“We make it work, mon. Ya need ta be able ta party tonight, ‘specially since ya brought ‘long a friend, e’en if she be ‘lliance.” He shrugged, glancing at Alaria. “But ya should know dat—”  
Alaria immediately lost track of the conversation, as Mandavo said something to Jul’zin in the trolls’ native tongue, Zandali. Both exchanged hearty laughs, and she looked around, noticing that many of the trolls were looking at her. ‘I wonder what they think of me,’ she thought, scooting closer to Jul’zin’s side. ‘I tried not to step on anyone’s toes while I was down here, and I haven’t said much outside of the hut, so hopefully I haven’t offended anyone.’  
“I gonna find Guchi’a,” Jul’zin said. “Look after dis fo’ Jul’zin, mon. He don’ wanna have sometin’ happen to it.” He handed Mandavo the bowl.   
“Will do, mon. I gon’ get da pipes ready, too. You gon’ like da smoke dis year, mon. It be real good.” Mandavo chuckled. “Take da lady, too. Guchi’a may paint her up too.”  
Alaria started to speak, but stopped as she felt Jul’zin grab her shoulder.   
“I see what she wanna do.” Jul’zin pulled Alaria along, taking the dagger and stashing it between his right thigh and the leather strap.   
“What were you talking about?” she requested.  
“’Bout gettin’ ya painted up? It customary fo’ da witch docta’s woman ta share some paint wit’ ‘im,” he said, reaching out and shooing a little girl away from where some of the men were sharpening the cooking spears.   
“You said something in a tongue I didn’t understand,” she clarified.   
“Oh, dat.” Jul’zin shrugged. “It be nothin’ much. My brutha, he a funny one. Always makin’ jokes an’ such.” He ducked into a hut, immediately receiving a screech and several heated words.   
“Jul’zin, ya blunderin’ oaf! Ya still don’ know how ta knock!”  
Jul’zin backed away as Guchi’a threw a wooden tankard out the door. “Sorry, sista,” he apologized. “I jus’ thought—”  
“Ya do a whole lotta dat, mon,” she spat, her pink braids flailing about her shoulders as she scolded Jul’zin. “Mutha always said ta not be makin’ dem ‘ssumptions, an’ ya didn’t seem ta get dat, did ya?” She put her hands on her hips, huffing. “You gimme jus’ a minute, mon.”   
Alaria remained speechless as Guchi’a turned back into her hut. “She’s a little more uptight,” she commented.  
“She always been dat way. Got my mutha’s blood, she do. My brutha an’ I, we takin’ afta my fatha.” He squatted in front of the door, resting his arms on his knees. “Ya can sit if ya wanna, ‘laria. She may be a little while.”  
“That’s alright.” Alaria looked around, observing the increasing activity throughout the village.   
“Alright, Jul,” Guchi’a snorted, returning to her doorstep. “What ya ova here fo’?”  
“Gettin’ some o’ dat paint,” he said. “Ya can blame Mandavo fo’ dat one. He sent me.”  
“Well, ya be da witch docta, so I guess I betta get ya presentable fo’ da party. Ya always did need help gettin’ dressed.”  
“’Ey!” Jul’zin took offense. “I wen’ an’ got dressed by meself, tank ya very much!”  
“Come on in.” She looked at Alaria, who shrunk back. “Ya can come in too, elf. Ya be wit’ my brutha, so ya be wit’ me.”   
Alaria hesitantly followed Jul’zin into Guchi’a’s hut, sitting on the floor away from the activity.  
“Well, dis time, I be doin’ sometin’ diff’rent,” Guchi’a said. She grabbed several bowls, setting them on the ground. She knelt down, motioning for Jul’zin to do the same. He squatted in front of her before sitting cross-legged. “What ya tink, Jul? Take dat silly ting off,” she ordered, flipping the cloth collar on Jul’zin’s chest. “I not gon’ paint wit’ dat, ‘cause da spirits take me if I mess dat up.”  
“Oh, ya.” Jul’zin took the headdress off, followed by the cloth collar.   
“Sit still, mon.” Guchi’a dipped her thumb in one of the bowls, coating it in red paint. “Othawise ya gonna mess Guchi up.”   
“Ya know Jul’zin can’t sit still, mon.”   
Alaria laughed slightly as Guchi’a grabbed Jul’zin’s tusk, yanking his head down so she could paint it.   
“Stop talkin’, mon.”  
Alaria watched Guchi’a paint a series of lines across Jul’zin’s face and chest, giving him a black and red mask. She proceeded to draw on several different designs on his shoulders and down his spine, each of her fingers a different color. After half an hour, she leaned back on her heels, admiring her work.   
“Hmm. Lookin’ good, methinks.” She looked at Alaria. “Elf, c’mere. You gonna paint on ‘im too, cause ya got mo’ fingers den I do.”  
“What?” Alaria replied, surprised.   
“C’mere. Guchi ain’t gon’ bite ya.”   
Alaria walked over to Guchi’a, kneeling beside her. She looked at Jul’zin, who smiled.  
“I tinkin’ maybe some white here.” She pointed to Jul’zin’s face. “In dem little stripes wit’ ya fingas.”  
“Alright,” Alaria replied, hesitant. She jumped as Guchi’a grabbed her hands, dipping her fingers in the bowl of white paint.   
“I guide ya,” Guchi’a told her.   
Alaria let Guchi’a move her hands over Jul’zin’s face, bringing her fingers down on his temples and dragging them across his cheeks, leaving five thin stripes behind them.   
“Much betta.” Guchi’a dropped Alaria’s hands, grabbing a mirror close by. “What ya tink, docta?”  
“I tink ya done a good job, sista.” Jul’zin ran his fingers through his hair. “Like ya always do.”  
“Good.” She looked at Alaria. “Now it be da elf’s turn.”   
“Me?” Again, Alaria reacted with surprise.   
“Do ya see any otha elfs ‘round ‘ere? I don’ tink so, mon.” Guchi’a wiped the back of her hand against her pale blue brow. “So jus’ be good an’ sit dere.”  
Alaria obliged, shivering as Guchi’a drew a few lines on her arms.   
“C’mere, Jul,” she requested. “Guchi needin’ dem big hands.”  
“What for, sista?” He untied the bandage on his hand, tossing it into the fire.   
“Ya know, da witch docta gotta make ‘is mark.”  
“Oh, dat. I not use ta dat, ‘cause I not bring a woman home fo’ a long time, mon.”  
“Da last one you bring home, she was a dumb one.”  
“I was lonely den, mon!” He coated his palms in the white paint. “An’ she seem like she be nice ‘nough ,but I didn’t know dat she be such a pain in da ass.”  
“What ya expect from a troll like dat?” Guchi’a laughed. “I almost kill her twice,” she said. “An’ Mandavo threatened ta boot ya from da tribe if ya bring ‘er back, mon.”  
“Ya, I ‘member dat.” Jul’zin shook his head. “Don’ remind me, mon.”   
“What are you doing?” Alaria asked.   
“Da witch docta make a mark on ‘is woman,” Guchi’a explained. “Dat way, da tribe know dat you wit’ da witch docta.”  
“I’m wearing his necklace,” she pointed out.  
“Dat not gon’ matta tonight, when half da tribe be smashed. Ya gotta stand out, or one o’ da men gonna pick ya right up.” Guchi’a chuckled. “’Cause ya not got much of a fightin’ chance ‘gainst some o’ dem men.”   
Alaria looked At Jul’zin, who debated. “I tinkin’ on ‘er shoulders,” he said.   
“Well, den she gon’ need ta change da shirt,” Guchi’a said. “Dem straps be in da way.”  
Alaria felt the blood rush into her cheeks. “I—”  
“Guchi let ya wear some o’ her stuff,” she offered, walking over to a small chest in the back of the hut. “Jul’zin jus’ gonna hafta wait fo’ a minute while ya change.”  
Alaria jumped as Guchi’a tossed a suede band at her.  
“Dat should cova ya,” she said.   
Alaria looked at the scrap of cloth, up to Jul’zin, and back down. She stood up, turning away. She took off her top, struggling into the new one as she listened to Jul’zin and Guchi’a converse in Zandali. When she turned back around, Guchi’a snorted with amusement.   
“Yer woman be a funny one,” she said, approaching Alaria. “Lemme help ya, mon.” She grabbed the band, adjusting it slightly and pulling Alaria’s hair out from underneath it. “Dat betta. Ya may wanna tie ya hair back, too. It gon’ be hot tonight next ta da fire.” Guchi’a handed Alaria a thick piece of twine. “C’mere, Jul. Ya may wanna get some fresh paint, now dat she be ready.”  
Jul’zin obliged, coating his palms a second time.   
Alaria pulled her long, violet hair back, watching as Jul’zin walked up to her.   
“Dis be from me,” he said quietly. “Dis show dat I choose ya, and dem otha trolls don’ get ta have ya.”  
Alaria smiled as Jul’zin put his hands on her bare shoulders, grabbing them and leaving white handprints behind .   
“I tink dat work, mon.” Guchi’a leaned back, eyeing Alaria. “She no troll, but she not lookin’ so ‘lliance-like now.”   
“I like dat.” Jul’zin let a mischevious grin form on his lips.   
“Now, I got tings ta do.” Guchi’a waited for Alaria to stand, then begain shooing them out of her home. “So go cause trouble elsewhere, Jul. Ya caused ‘nough o’er here!”  
“Tank ya, mon!” He laughed slightly. “I see ya tonight!” 

Alaria walked with Jul’zin, even more aware of his size as she stood next to him. She realized how small she must look; even his sister, another troll, was almost an entire foot shorter than he was, and she stood up straight. She glanced at the various tribal markings on Jul’zin’s body, all painted in red, black, and white. Alaria felt a slight tinge of pride as she looked at his face, noting that those lines were drawn by her fingers, that she had been the one to make the final mark on the Darkspear tribe’s witch doctor.   
“What ya tinkin’ ‘bout?” Jul’zin asked her.   
“Nothing, really.”  
“Ya be da worst liya Jul’zin eva met.” He snickered, grabbing one of her hands. “Ya know ya can tell Jul’zin anyting, ya?”  
“Yeah.” She squeezed his hand back. “I know.”  
“Ya excited fo’ da party, mon?”  
“I suppose.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how to react, since I’ve never really… partied before.”  
“’Cause ya ‘lliance be too strict ‘bout everything! Ya don’ know how ta chill!” Jul’zin let out a satisfied sigh. “I show ya how da Horde party tonight, mon.”   
Alaria nodded, shrinking back as Jul’zin approached Mandavo.  
“Guchi did ya well,” Mandavo pointed out. “She always do a good job on ya.”  
“Ya, mon. She done good.”   
“An’ she even painted up yer lady fo’ ya.” He laughed. “She lookin’ betta now.”   
“Jul’zin tink so, too. He like dat she bein’ mo’ free.” He stretched his back, temporarily towering over his slouched brother. “We ready ta get da party started?”  
“Mandavo ready when da witch docta ready,” he replied. “An’ Livvi be bringin’ da smokin’ stuff.”  
“Dat not ‘til lata, though.”  
“Who said dat? I be da chief, ya mon?”  
“You be da chief.” Jul’zin nodded. “If ya say we smokin’ den we smokin’, but dem othas gotta wait fo’ a bit while da chief and da witch docta chill.”  
“Come on, brutha.” Mandavo motioned for Jul’zin to follow him. “And ya can bring da elf, since she not causin’ any trouble.”  
“Jul’zin told ‘davo dat he know what he doin’.” Jul’zin turned to Alaria. “Ya gonna relax a bit, mon.”  
Mandavo walked into his hut, welcoming Jul’zin and Alaria in. Alaria glanced over at a female troll, who was obviously in the later stages of her pregnancy, as she walked over to greet them.   
“’davo, ya back so soon? Livvi don’ have da pipe ready.”  
“Dat’s ok, love. He don’ mind. An’ he bring help, if ya want it.”  
“Who?”  
“Da elf.”  
“Oh.” Livvi looked at Alaria. “Ya be Jul’zin’s, ya?”  
“Yes,” Alaria responded, quickly becoming uncomfortable.   
“Livvi don’ mind ya. She could use an extra set o’ hands.” Livvi smiled, her tiny, curved tusks peeking out from underneath her thin, green lip.   
Alaria looked at Jul’zin, who nodded. She walked over to where Livvi was standing, and followed her into the back of the spacious hut.   
“So, ‘davo tells me dat Jul’zin pick ya up in Orgrimmar?” Livvi said, grabbing a leather sack.  
“Sort of,” Alaria replied. “Outside Orgrimmar. He saved my life.”  
“He a sweet one, dat Jul’zin. Had a mean phase, but he din’t stay dere fo’ long.” She paused, handing Alaria the sack. “Livvi understand how ya feel, mon. She work wit’ da Emmisaries fo’ a good while, an’ she not see much o’ her Horde while she stay in Stormwind wit’ da king and our Vol’jin. Den, she come back ‘ere fo’ ‘davo, who she mate wit’ befo’ she leave.” She opened the small pouch, dipping a small spoon into its contents. “So even thoug h dem otha trolls may look at ya funny, Livvi know how ya feel.” She poured a few spoons of the herbal mixture into a pipe, looking over her shoulder. “It gon’ be fun tonight, mon. Ya gon’ have a good time wit’ us Darkspear. We know how ta party.” Livvi raised the pipe, looking at it. “Ya, it be lookin’ good, mon. Ya can set da smokin’ stuff down.” She turned to Mandavo and Jul’zin. “Da pipe be ready, boys.”  
“Ya so good ta us, Livvi.” Mandavo approached her, pressing his forehead against hers. “Tank ya, mon.”  
“Dat be what Livvi do.” She handed Mandavo the pipe. “She not be smokin’ dis year, though. Da little one come first.”  
“You gon’ be a good motha.” Mandavo smiled, turning to Jul’zin. “Sit, brutha. We gon’ have some time wit’ each otha befo’ da crazy party start.”  
“Jul’zin okay wit’ dat.” Jul’zin followed Mandavo to the ground. “’laria comin’ too?”  
“I—“  
“Sit, woman.” Mandavo gave her a stern look. “Ya gon’ be good ta my brutha dis evenin’ since he be so good ta ya.”  
Alaria knelt next to Jul’zin, keeping her head low.  
“Mandavo,” Livvi scolded. “Da girl don’ know what she doin’, bein’ ‘lliance an’ all. Be patient wit’ ‘er.” 

Alaria watched as Mandavo struck a match, lighting the pipe. He took a long drag, sighing heavily with satisfaction.  
“Ya, mon, it be good dis year.” He took another breath, laughing slightly. “Here ya go, Jul.” He handed the pipe to Jul’zin, nodding.   
Jul’zin put the pipe to his lips. “Now, don’ be gettin’ too mellow, ‘davo. We still got a party ta hold.” He took a drag, smiling. “Livvi do a good job on dis one.” He took a second drag, turning to Alaria. “Ya should try dis,” he suggested, extending his arm and offering her the pipe.   
“Well, I don’t know—”  
“Jus’ try it, mon.”   
Alaria took the pipe with hesitation, holding it with both hands as she realized the immense size. She looked at it, debating.  
“Come on, ‘laria.” Jul’zin put one hand on the pipe, putting it up to her mouth. “Dis be da start o’ da party.”  
“Alright,” she finally agreed. She put her lips to the pipe, taking a deep breath. She immediately started coughing as the heavy smoke caught in her throat. Her eyes began to water as she continued to cough, and she heard the trolls chuckle.  
“Dem ‘lliance, dey don’ do dis much,” Livvi pointed out. “’specially da elfs.”  
Jul’zin put his hand on her back, rubbing between her shoulder blades. “Ya not s’posed ta choke on it.” Jul’zin let a soft smile form on his lips.   
“Ya woman not gon’ smoke?” Mandavo asked, still laughing. “Dat be sometin’ diff’rent.”   
“I ask ‘laria ta try it, an’ she did. I not gon’ make ‘er if she don’ wanna.”  
Alaria rubbed her eyes as she finally settled down, her head throbbing.   
“Den dere be more fo’ us, I s’pose. Mandavo don’ mind.”   
Alaria sat patiently as Jul’zin and Mandavo smoked, becoming more mellow with each breath of the herbal mixture. ‘He’s so relaxed,’ she realized, putting her hand on Jul’zin’s knee. ‘I wish I could feel that way.’  
“It be gettin’ dark, mon,” Mandavo said. “We be gettin’ dis party started, ya?”  
“Ya, mon.” Jul’zin put his hand over Alaria’s, squeezing it as he moved it. “We ready.”   
“Den let’s go, mon! You da witch docta, ya gotta be ready!”  
“Don’ rush Jul’zin, mon!” Jul’zin stood up, walking over to where his bowl was sitting.   
“’Davo not plannin’ on it.” Mandavo looked at Alaria. “Ya gon’ help Jul’zin, ya?”   
“Oh, yes, of course,” she stuttered, jumping to her feet. She whipped around, nearly running into Jul’zin with his bowl. “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed.  
“Ya fine, ‘laria.” Jul’zin nodded, starting towards the door . “Come wit’ Jul’zin. His brutha be followin’ in a few minutes.”   
She did as Jul’zin instructed, keeping a distance behind him as they walked to the bonfire, which burned intensely and lit up the slowly darkening sky.   
“Dis be da fun part,” Jul’zin said. “Ya gon’ eat well tonight, mon. An’ we gon’ have a good time, ya? It be betta when we get dere.”  
Alaria didn’t respond, looking around at the trolls who were already dancing and conversing around the fire.   
“’Ey! Da witch docta!” One troll pointed at Jul’zin, grinning. “Da party really gettin’ started!”  
“Dat why I be ‘ere.” Jul’zin took his spot a slight distance from the bonfire, sitting down and placing his bowl in his lap. “Sit next ta me, ‘laria,” he requested. “Until my brutha get ‘ere, dere not be much ta do, unless ya wantin’ ta dance.”  
“That’s alright,” she assured him, sitting down beside him. “I don’t mind sitting.”  
“Jul’zin love ‘laria, she know dat, right?”  
“Yes.” She smiled. “And Alaria loves him back.”   
He leaned over, pressing his painted forehead to Alaria’s temple. “I make sure ya have a good time, mon. Dis gon’ be a blast.”

“Darkspear! How ya doin’?” Mandavo made a grand entrance, shouting to the growing crowd of dancing, intoxicated trolls. “Let’s get dis party started!”   
The entire village erupted in cheers, and several drums began to play. Alaria looked at Jul’zin, who had closed his eyes.   
“Jul’zin?”  
“Don’ be both’rin’ ‘im,” Mandavo said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. “He be communicatin’ wit’ da spirits. Let’s get ya movin’ while he do dat!”   
She shrieked as she was dragged to a massive group of men and women, and Mandavo laughed.   
“Dance, elf! Let yaself go! Dis be a party!”   
Alaria nodded fervently, attempting to dance amongst the sweeping kicks from the male trolls all around her. She jumped as a troll grabbed her arm, swinging her around and passing her off to another eager recipient. She tried to keep up with the dance, only becoming more confused as she ended up between two women, who danced simply but in rhythm to the beat of the drums. She resumed her dancing, twirling around as she dug her foot into the dusty ground. With each spin, Jul’zin’s necklace bounced against her breast, and she smiled, glancing at him as he meditated. Alaria soon realized she was surrounded by trolls, all of whom towered over her. She felt herself panic slightly. ‘I can’t see anything,’ she thought, her dancing slowing. ‘Where am I?’ She let out a cry of surprise as a man grabbed her arm, pulling her into a line that paced around the bonfire. She stumbled over, searching for Jul’zin. She caught a glance of him as she was pressed forward, but couldn’t act, as she was held in the line by a pair of massive hands. Alaria noticed that each of the trolls had at least one hand on the person in front of them, and she attempted to join in, placing her hand on the shoulderblade in front of her. The trolls began cheering, but she remained silent, not wanting her voice to stand out amongst the Darkspear. ‘I just want to be out of this,’ she thought. ‘I don’t like being by myself with all of them.’   
“’Ey, elf!” Guchi’a turned around, grinning. “I thought dat ya be dere, wit’ all dem little fingers!”  
“Guchi’a,” Alaria replied, sighing with relief.   
“You be havin’ fun, ya mon?”  
“Yeah.”   
“Let yaself go! Dis jus’ be da beginnin’!” Guchi’a cheered, throwing her fist into the air.   
Alaria felt herself relax slightly, knowing that she knew who was in front of her. She caught another glance of Jul’zin as they passed him a second time.   
“What da witch docta thinkin’?” Mandavo shouted.   
“Da spirits be talkin’ ta ‘im,” Jul’zin replied, opening his eyes. “An’ dey tinkin’ dat dis party need ta be goin’ fasta! Dey wanna get da ritual outta da way, both fo’ us an’ dem, ‘cause ya know how dey get when we too slow, chief.”   
“Den it be settled!” Mandavo jumped on a nearby tree stump. “It be startin’, mon! Da witch docta givin’ out da luck from da spirits!”

Alaria followed the line, the troll behind her leading the way, as they approached Jul’zin. Because she was so much smaller, she couldn’t see what was going on in front of her until she was feet away from him. She felt shivers run down her spine as she watched Guchi’a hold Jul’zin’s bowl to her lips, Jul’zin’s hands supporting it from beneath. ‘He’s cut his hand,’ she noticed, her eyes drawn to the blood running down Jul’zin’s arm. ‘He didn’t have enough.’ As Guchi’a left, rejoining the partying mass, Alaria stared straight at Jul’zin, who smiled.   
“How be da party?” he asked.   
“It’s alright.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Am I the last one?”  
“Ya, mon.” Jul’zin nodded. “You be da end o’ da line. My brutha already come through, an’ da rest o’ da tribe too.”  
“So, now what?”  
“Do ya wanna take part?” he asked.   
“I’m not a Darkspear.” She looked back at Jul’zin’s hand.  
“You be wit’ me. Dat make you a Darkspear.” He sat the empty bowl down on the ground beside him, putting one hand on her arm. “If ya don’ wanna, Jul’zin undastand. It be scary fo’ someone who be from outside.”  
Alaria remained silent for a minute. She debated on whether or not to engage in the ritual— the other members of the Alliance could consider it cannibalism if they bent the rules, and that would condemn her even more than her initial offense; however, she didn’t want to disappoint Jul’zin, who had risked his life for her and done so much to make her happy, and who she loved more than anyone in the world. “I’ll do it,” she decided, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. She watched as Jul’zin’s face lit up. “But I’m scared.”  
“Don’ be. It not dat hard.” Jul’zin slouched over. “All ya gotta do is give Jul’zin one o’ dem kisses. Jus’ do it on ‘is palm. Dat be plenty.”  
Alaria reached out, her own hands shaking, and grabbed Jul’zin’s hand. She stared at Jul’zin for a moment, trying to smile.  
“You don’ hafta, ‘laria. Jul’zin won’ be mad, he promise.”   
“No, I’ll do it.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she pressed her lips to Jul’zin’s bleeding palm. She felt his warm blood cover her lips and streak across her face, and she shuddered. As she pulled away, she noticed that troll’s blood did taste different. It was slightly sweeter and less metallic than her own blood, which she had tasted many times before.   
“’laria,” Jul’zin said, reaching out with his other hand and grabbing her hand. “Jul’zin has one more ting dat he need ta do, but only if ya willin’.”  
“What is it?”   
“Jul’zin gave away all ‘is luck to da Darkspear, an’ so he hafta find a way ta get some back. If ya don’ wanna, his brutha be more den willin’ ta help ‘im out.” He paused. “Jul’zin hafta make a little cut on ya hand, or ‘is brutha’s.”  
“Like yours?” Alaria felt the color fading from her cheeks.   
“No, much smaller, love. If ya don’ wanna, we don’ hafta. He wants ya ta be da one, but he undastand.”  
Again, Alaria debated. It wasn’t the pain that scared her, as she had been on the brink of death several times before— she was afraid of the change. Never in her life had she done something so unconventional, and she was stepping away from the life she had known, full of rules and order. “I’ll do it,” she answered again, shifting uncomfortably in front of him.   
Jul’zin gave her a soft smile. “If ya wanna, I can give ya da dagga, if dat make it easier fo’ ya.”  
“No,” she answered quickly. “Just do it.”  
“If ya say so.”   
Alaria felt Jul’zin turn her hand over and rest it in his palm, drawing his dagger with his other hand from between his thigh and the leather band.   
“Ya ready, mon?”  
“Just do it.” She closed her eyes.  
“Jul’zin be as gentle as he can be.”   
She winced as she felt a quick slice across her palm. The blood began to gather in her palm, though it was an insignificant amount, and she shook with anxiety. She opened her eyes as she felt Jul’zin’s other hand beneath hers, his six massive fingers struggling to find space on her small hand. She locked eyes with Jul’zin as he pulled her hand between his tusks and up to his lips. He kissed her hand, holding it up for several seconds, before gently lowering and releasing it. Immediately, the entire village erupted into cheers, and the drums ran more rapidly. Alaria jumped, whipping around and pressing herself to Jul’zin’s chest. “What’s going on?” she asked him.  
“Dis be da first time I bring a woman who accept dis part o’ me,” he responded. “Da tribe know all about da witch docta an’ da tings he hafta do, an’ da woman o’ da witch docta sometimes have trouble accepting da fact dat he dabble in da voodoo.” He reached across her, pressing their hands together. “Ya show dat ya know what it mean ta be a witch docta an’ a Darkspear.”  
“I didn’t even do anything,” she said.   
“But ya did, ‘laria, an’ da othas know dat.”   
She watched as Mandavo and the rest of the tribe approached Jul’zin and herself, and she shrank back against Jul’zin.   
“What I tell ya, mon?” Jul’zin shouted. “I tell ya dat she be sometin’ else!”  
“An’ ‘davo believe ya now, mon.” Mandavo stood in front of them, looking at Alaria. “Ya treatin’ my brutha well, elf,” he said. “Betta dan any o’ dem othas he bring here. Even though you be ‘lliance, ya know what it mean ta be Darkspear.”   
Alaria squeezed Jul’zin’s hand, still intimidated by Mandavo’s very presence.   
“Since ya do dat, ‘davo accept ya.” He squatted down, putting himself on her level. “Ya ‘ccept Mandavo?”  
“I, yes, by Elune, of course,” she stuttered.   
“Welcome.” Mandavo put his hand behind her head, knocking his forehead into hers in friendly greeting. “Jul, ya ready ta eat?”  
“What ya tink, ya gnoll-brain?”  
“Why ya do dat, mon? Ya know I be sens’tive ‘bout my smarts.” Mandavo gave a hearty laugh before turning to the rest of the people. “Let’s get da feast goin’! We really gon’ party now!”  
Alaria stood and watched as the village dispersed, getting the food and drink organized for the evening. Still shocked, she put her hand to her forehead.   
“Did ‘davo hurt ya, love?” Jul’zin asked, grabbing her shoulder.  
“No, not at all. I’m just surprised.” She wrapped her fingers around one of his. “It happened so fast, and I don’t even know what to think now.”  
“You be welcome among da Darkspear,” Jul’zin explained. “If my brutha say ya welcome, den da rest of dem welcome ya, mon.”  
“Even if I’m just a visitor?”  
“Ya no longa just a visita, ‘laria. Ya be part o’ da tribe.”   
Alaria nodded. ‘Part of the Darkspear tribe,’ she thought. ‘Elune, please don’t forsake me.’  
“Ya ready ta eat?”  
“Yes,” she answered. “I haven’t eaten all day.”  
“Well, no wonda ya so skinny, mon!” Jul’zin chuckled. “Jul’zin jus’ teasin’ ya, mon. He like ya jus’ da way ya be.”  
She smiled. “Thanks.” 

Jul’zin led Alaria to where the meal was being organized, humming tohimself.  
“What are you singing?” Alaria asked, watching as food was placed on dozens of tables.  
“Oh, dat?” He laughed. “That jus’ be one o’ dem songs from da Kor’kron. Da work was hard, so we had ta do sometin’ ta keep our minds off it.” Jul’zin paused. “So we do some singin’. It not be my best ting, but I get a song in me head e’ery now an’ den.”  
“Ah.” Alaria shrieked as Mandavo grabbed her shoulders, pushing her forward.   
“’Ey!” Jul’zin exclaimed, turning to his brother. “What ya doin’ dat fo’?”  
“Da woman be goin’ first, mon,” he snickered. “’Cause da eats be ready now, an’ da two o’ ya goin’ first.”  
“Why?” Jul’zin pulled Alaria back to his side.   
“’Cause ya be da witch docta!”  
“You be da chief—”  
“I don’ wanna go first, so ya betta get up dere!” Mandavo leaned over, headbutting Jul’zin. “Da chief tell ya so.”   
“Cleva bastard.” Jul’zin smiled, looking at the people still partying around them. “Alright, ‘laria. We be goin’ first fo’ da eats.”  
“I don’t know where I’m going,” she said.  
“Jus’ follow Jul’zin,” he instructed. “An’ ‘davo be followin’ ya, so ya won’ get lost.”   
Alaria walked behind Jul’zin to where the food sat, and she glanced down as he grabbed several different varieties of tropical fruit and a haunch of wild boar. She followed suit, grabbing a skewered fish and two flat breads. He nodded, walking off to an open spot away from the majority of the others.   
“It be lookin’ good,” he said, sitting against a palm tree. “Ya can sit, mon.”  
“I’m getting there.” She sat across from Jul’zin, placing the flat breads on her knee. “I grabbed one for you,” she said, looking at her fish.  
“Well, dat be sweet o’ ya.” Jul’zin tossed her an orange, laughing as it struck her in the chest. “Ya s’posed ta catch it, mon.”  
“I wasn’t expecting that.” Alaria stuck her tongue out, picking the fruit up and dusting it off.  
“Don’ be gettin’ slow on me, mon! Ya gotta keep ya fightin’ skills up!”  
Alaria laughed slightly, taking a bite out of the fish.  
“It good, mon?” Jul’zin took a bite of boar.  
“Yeah.” She picked up one of the breads, extending her hand. “Have this,” she insisted.  
“Tank ya, mon.” Jul’zin took the tiny bread in his fingers, setting it on his knee.   
They ate in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of celebration. As Alaria was finishing her fish and cutting into her orange, a small fruit hit her in the cheek. She immediately shot her glance to Jul’zin, who was maneuvering a mango between his tusks.  
“Did you throw something at me?” she asked, taking a bite of her own fruit.  
“No, mon,” Jul’zin said. “I busy eatin’ dis.”  
“Alright.” She turned her attentions back to her orange, and almost immediately after, the same type of fruit hit her in the shin. “Jul, I know it was you,” she said, huffing and looking back up.  
“What ya talkin’ ‘bout, mon?” he asked, opening his arms as he held a second mango. “I don’ have anyting.”  
“I don’t believe you.” She pursed her lips, looking away and taking another bite of orange. She gasped as a fruit fell down her shirt, and she felt her face grow red as Jul’zin chuckled. “I knew it was you,” she muttered, sticking her hand in her top and grabbing the small, round fruit.   
“Jul’zin jus’ playin’, love,” he told her, smiling. “It be a party, ya? We s’posed ta have fun, mon.”  
“I’ll get you back,” she promised.   
“Ya?” Jul’zin’s brow raised, and a mischevious look appeared in his eyes.   
Alaria stood up, putting her hands on her hips. “You are always doing this sort of thing,” she scolded. “I’ve warned you several times, and you’ve ignored those warnings.”  
“Ya, mon,” Jul’zin admitted. “What ya gon’ do?”  
Alaria walked behind Jul’zin, who remained seated.   
“Ya not sneakin’ up on Jul’zin, mon,” he said, putting his fruit down.   
“I’m not trying to.” Alaria jumped on Jul’zin, wrapping her arms around his neck.   
“Oh, ya playin’ wit Jul’zin now?” He grabbed her arms, planting a foot firmly on the ground and raising himself to a knee.   
Alaria giggled, gasping as Jul’zin stood up and severed her grip with the earth.   
“What ya gon’ do now, ‘laria?” He chuckled, standing up straight.   
“Something,” she muttered. She looked around, leaning over and biting Jul’zin’s ear.   
“Ow!” he exclaimed. “Jul’zin ain’t dat mean, mon!”  
“I warned you,” Alaria said.   
“Well, Jul’zin got ya.” He smiled. “Put ya legs ‘round me,” he requested. “I carry ya betta dat way.”  
Alaria obliged, jumping slightly as Jul’zin reached behind him and put his hands on the backs of her thighs. “Where are we going?” she asked him.   
“We go up ta da party,” Jul’zin said, squatting down and grabbing the bananas he had abandoned. “Eat dis,” he instructed, handing them to Alaria.  
“I’m not hungry,” she argued.  
“Den ya gotta help me eat ‘em. I can’t do it when I be carryin’ ya.”  
“You could put me down.”  
“Don’ wanna.”  
Alaria giggled, sticking the bananas up to her face so they pointed up. “I be a Darkspear,” she said, taking on a stern expression.   
Jul’zin looked over his shoulder. “Are ya mockin’ Jul’zin?” he asked, smiling himself.   
“Why would Alaria do dat?” She laughed. “Alaria is good Alliance, mon.”  
“You still a silly, silly elf,” Jul’zin said, continuing forward. “Open one o’ dose, would ya?”  
“Sure.” Alaria began peeling the banana, watching the trolls around them drinking and dancing. “Everyone is having fun,” she commented, trying to hand the fruit to Jul’zin.  
“Ya, mon.” He shifted his grip. “Jul’zin can’t hold dat, ‘cause he be holdin’ ‘laria. He don’ wanna drop ‘er.”   
Alaria brought it up, sticking it practically in his face. “Here,” she said. “That better?”  
“Thank ya, mon.” He took a bite, smiling. “Ya know, Jul’zin wanna dance. Ya gon’ come wit’ ‘im?”  
“I, well…” She contemplated leaving the safety of Jul’zin’s side or joining him in the mass of dancing, drunken bodies circling the multiple bonfires. “I guess,” she agreed, tossing the banana peel on the ground.  
“Don’ worry, mon. I keep ya safe.” 

Jul’zin carried Alaria closer to the celebration, approaching Mandavo.   
“Ya gettin’ goin’, mon?” Jul’zin reached out, smacking his brother upside the head.   
“’ey, now!” Mandavo whipped around, a tankard in his hand. “What ya tink ya doin’?”  
“I jus’ comin’ ta da party,” he said.   
“Ya bringin’ ya woman too, I see.” Mandavo smiled.   
Alaria tried to follow them as they conversed in Zandali, giving Jul’zin a suspicious look as he burst into rambunctious laughter.   
“Ya, mon, lata.” Jul’zin, still laughing, held Alaria tighter. “Dat be lata.”   
“Well, ya betta get out dere an’ party, mon.” Mandavo gave Jul’zin’s arm a friendly pat. “Show da elf how ta do it.” He winked at Alaria.   
“Alright, I be goin’, ya save some smokin’ for me.”   
Alaria put her hand on Jul’zin’s chest, running her fingers along his scars. “You were talking again,” she said.   
“I tellin’ ya, my brutha be a funny one.”   
“What was he talking to you about?”  
“It don’ matta, love. Jus’ trust me.”  
“I do, but still.”   
Jul’zin squatted down, putting Alaria’s feet on the ground. “Ya ready ta party?” he asked her.   
“Sure.” She reluctantly released her grip on Jul’zin, standing beside him as he stretched.   
“Come on, mon!” He grabbed her hand, pulling her into the group of trolls who were already falling over, intoxicated.   
“Everyone’s so drunk,” she said, shrieking as Jul’zin spun her around.   
“Dat be one o’ da best parts, mon!”   
“Please don’t get drunk,” she begged.   
“Since ya ask so nice, I won’t.” He chuckled. “Come on, show me dat night elf dance! I know ya can dance, mon.”  
Alaria hesitated, but obliged, twirling around. “I hope you’re enjoying this,” she muttered. “I don’t dance.”  
“Ya be beautiful, mon.” He fell forward onto his hands, kicking his heels into the air.   
“Oh!” Alaria stopped, watching Jul’zin dance. ‘He’s so sexy,’ she thought. ‘I don’t know how he hadn’t found someone before.’ 

They danced for nearly two hours, Alaria partaking in several drinks and finding herself becoming intoxicated, despite her attempts to avoid falling into the same state as most of the village.   
“You ready ta stop?” Jul’zin asked her, holding her hand to his lips.   
“I don’t know,” she replied, giggling. “I think I’m doing fine.”  
“Well, ya be lookin’ good, mon. Ya be beautiful, an’ Jul’zin can be good to ya.”  
“Well, how so? You’ve already been so good, Jul.” She kissed him on the cheek.   
“Well, ya jus’ come wit’ Jul’zin.” He picked her up, holding her to his chest. He glanced over at his brother, who gave him a nod and laugh. “He gon’ take us away from da people, so we can be alone.”   
“What are you planning?” She put her hand on Jul’zin’s arm.   
“I not been plannin’ anyting, mon. Jus’ wantin’ ta spend some time wit’ ya, alone.”  
“Hmm.”   
Jul’zin carried her to the beach, setting her down near the water. “How ‘bout dis?” he asked her, sitting beside her.  
“Well, it’s pretty.” She leaned up against him.  
“Dis be da place Jul’zin spend his time afta he lose ‘is best mate,” he said. “Zuni, now he was a good troll. Always sacrificin’ for da tribe. Gave ‘is life fightin’ one o’ dem dirty naga.”  
“I’m sorry.” Alaria grabbed Jul’zin’s hand.   
“You fine. Jul’zin jus’ tinkin’. Dat Zuni been speakin to ‘im lately, an’ he been guidin’ ‘im.”  
Alaria sighed. “We can go back to the house if you’d rather,” she said.  
“No.” Jul’zin removed the ceremonial crown and chestpiece, setting them in the sand beside him. “Dat’s alright.” He turned, pressing his forehead to Alaria’s. “You be smashed, mon?”  
“Not quite.” She giggled. “You aren’t, are you?”  
“Jul’zin hasn’t had a drink dis evening.”  
“I love you.”   
Jul’zin put his hands on either side of Alaria, pressing his chest against hers. “Jul’zin love ya more den anyting, mon.”  
Alaria smiled, leaning into him. “You’re so incredibly handsome.”   
Jul’zin laughed slightly, moving and straddling Alaria. “Ya know, mon,” he said. “Ya should be more careful ‘round Jul’zin. He easy ta tempt when ya be lookin’ like dat.”   
“Lookin’ like what?” Alaria reached up, running her fingers along one of his tusks.  
“Lookin’ so pretty, mon. Pretty tasty.” He maneuvered himself around, kissing her neck. “Mmm.I like dat.”   
Alaria sighed, running her fingers through his hair and pulling the few loose strands away from his brow, only to watch them fall back. “The sand’s still warm,” she said, leaning back and looking up at Jul’zin.  
“Dat makes it betta.”   
Alaria pressed her lips to Jul’zin’s, running them along his. She realized what Jul’zin was trying to do, but she didn’t mind. For nearly a year, she had spent almost every waking moment at his side, and not a second went by without him running through her mind. She thought about him constantly. Her friends, while she cared for them deeply, were in the back of her thoughts. Jul’zin had claimed her heart, and she wanted to give back to him for everything he had done for her. “Jul’zin,” she said, in-between kisses. “I wish I could do something for you.”  
“You spendin’ time wit’ me, love. Dat be all I need.”   
“Are you sure, Jul?” She traced the muscles in his arm with her fingertips.   
“I be sure.” He chuckled. “Ya be da best ting dat happen ta dis ol’ troll.”


	5. A New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaria must work with a stranger to rescue Jul'zin, who is trapped in Orgrimmar for his crimes against the Horde.

Alaria sat, eating a crisp red apple, as Jul’zin watched a blacksmith repairing a crack in his shield.   
“It almost done,” Jul’zin said.  
Alaria jumped, slightly startled. “You scared me,” she replied, taking another bite.   
“Oh, I sorry, mon.” He laughed slightly. “Ya know Jul’zin don’t mean ta do dat ta ‘laria.”  
“I know.” She smiled. “Where are we headed after this?”  
“I’ve got a few tings dat I left behind when I took ya up ta Stormwind,” he said. “If ‘laria feels comfortable wit’ it, I need ta go ta my house in Durotar.”  
“Well, I’m not terribly fond of the place.” She stood up, walking over to a trash can and tossing the apple core into it. “The Kor’kron weren’t exactly kind to me.”  
“I know, but ‘laria was by herself den. She got Jul’zin now.” He handed a few gold coins over to the blacksmith, taking his shield. “I owe ya one,” he said, waving.  
“Good day, troll.” The human man nodded.  
Jul’zin turned back to Alaria. “If ya want, ya welcome to stay back in Dalaran, where ya don’ hafta worry ‘bout da Kor’kron.”  
“I’ll go with you.” Alaria decided that she would rather risk being caught by the Kor’kron again than be separated from Jul’zin. “It’s not going to be too long of a journey, is it?”  
“No,” Jul’zin assured her. “I jus’ grabbin’ some tings, an’ den we leavin’. I like dem Kor’kron as much as you do, I jus’ happen ta be one once.”  
“That was a long time ago, though.”  
“Ya, mon.” He smiled, grabbing her hand. “Ya so good ta Jul’zin, ‘laria.”  
She blushed. “Thanks.”  
“Are ya ready ta go ‘head an’ go ta Durotar?” he asked.  
“How are we getting there?”  
“Dere be a portal ta Tanaris,” he replied. “We go dere an’ den we ride. It not too bad a journey.”  
“Alright.” She hesitated. “I suppose we might as well get going.”  
“Dat be good wit’ me, mon.” 

They walked to the stables to retrieve Ful’imal and Roojama before riding into Dalaran’s portal to Tanaris. They rode along the coastline until they came to Durotar, at which point they started inland. Soon, they were nearing Jul’zin’s house and getting closer to Orgrimmar. When the small abode became visible, Jul’zin stopped.  
“Da spirits be restless,” he said, taking a deep breath.   
“What?” Alaria patted Roojama on the neck, the raptor releasing a satisfied growl.  
“I tink dere be some voodoo happenin’.” He continued forward at walking speed, looking around. “But I can’t see it.”  
“Are you sure you’re not just imagining things?” Alaria asked, hopeful.  
“No way. Da spirits speakin’ ta Jul’zin, tellin’ ‘im dat sometin’ be changed.” They stopped again— this time, Jul’zin dismounted, handing Ful’imal’s reins to Alaria. “I be just a moment,” he assured her.   
Alaria watched Jul’zin lumber to the doorway. When he stopped, she called out. “Is everything alright?”  
“Ya, mon.” He took one more step, and instantly found himself frozen to the ground. “Run!” he bellowed, looking hurriedly around. “It be a trap!”  
Alaria started towards Jul’zin, pulling her polearm off her back.  
“No, ‘laria, go! Find Ralath, he help ya! Go ta Shattrath!”  
Alaria hesitated, watching as several Kor’kron came into sight.   
“Go!” Jul’zin started swaying, stunned.   
Alaria, tears welling in her eyes, pulled Ful’imal along as she rode Roojama in the opposite direction of Jul’zin’s house. She looked over her shoulder, seeing five Kor’kron surrounding Jul’zin. ‘I have to find this Ralath,’ she thought. ‘I have to get Jul’zin back!’   
************  
“You thought you could get away with helping those Alliance scum, did ya, troll?”  
“I dunno what ya talkin’ ‘bout, orc.” Jul’zin laid his throbbing head on the ground.   
“Yes, you do!” The Kor’kron orc struck Jul’zin between the shoulderblades with the handle of his massive Warhammer. “Stop lying!”  
“I ain’t gon’ say nothin’ ta da likes o’ ya,” Jul’zin spat, fighting the magic bonds that held him fast. “I can play dis game all day.”  
“Then we’ll play this game!”   
Jul’zin grunted as he was kicked in the head with the steel toed sabaton of the orc.   
“How many Alliance did you help, troll?”  
“Do it really matta?” Jul’zin chuckled slightly. “Not dat ya could count dat high, anyway.”  
“Fool!”  
Jul’zin laughed, despite himself, as another orc kicked him in the side. “Between da two o’ ya,” he said, sucking in air. “Ya might be able ta count da numba o’ gnomes I got, ‘cause dere were two o’ dem.” He coughed, wincing as the orcs picked him up by each arm, dragging him out of the prison. “I even tink ya could count da numba o’ lady dwarfs I had. Jus’ one o’ dem, an’ she had more honor den da two o’ ya an’ da rest o’ ya company.” He recoiled as a metal gauntlet collided with his face, his cheekbone cracking.   
“You better stop talking, traitor.”   
“Jul’zin might as well, ‘cause da ears he speakin’ ta have da undastandin’ of a naga.” Jul’zin chuckled to himself, watching the faces of the townsfolk as he passed by. “We goin’ ta da Warchief?” he asked the orcs.   
“No,” the first snapped. “You’re going to the General.”  
“Dat Nazgrim, da arrogant bastard?”   
“Hold your tongue!”  
Jul’zin sighed. He realized that going to Garrosh might warrant him a swift, painless death; going to General Nazgrim meant certain torture, and death would be a much preferred alternative. If it weren’t for Alaria, he wouldn’t mind death— he had done his fair share of killing, and he was willing to exchange his life for the hundreds he had saved. He watched as he was led into Ragefire Chasm, where Nazgrim currently had his base of operations, no doubt to mask the screams of trapped Alliance warriors from the unknowing population of Orgrimmar. 

“Lok’tar, General,” the orcs said in unison.   
“Blood and thunder!” General Nazgrim, obviously irritated, refrained from turning around. “What do you want?”  
“We were ordered to deliver the traitor to you,” the first answered.   
“The traitor?”  
“The troll, General.”  
Nazgrim turned around, his eyes falling on Jul’zin. “Very well, then. Stand outside. No one comes in until I’m finished with him.”  
“Yes, General.” The Kor’kron dropped Jul’zin, then marched to the door and shut it behind them.  
“My most trusted soldier, and you turn your back on the Horde?” He paused. “A powerful legionnaire, and you let some of the most dangerous Alliance warriors slip from your grasp?”  
“Dey didn’t slip. I let dem go.” Jul’zin pushed himself to his feet. “Dis isn’t da Horde dat I fight fo’,” he stated. “Da Horde I fight for, ya killed it. Garrosh an’ da rest o’ ya be tearin’ apart da true Horde.”  
“We are the true Horde!” Nazgrim approached Jul’zin, his lip curled.  
“I ain’t nothin’ dat ya be,” Jul’zin spat. “Ya keep tellin’ yaself dat I wit’ ya, but my loyalties be wit’ Vol’jin, who be fightin’ fo’ peace. I told myself dat I would neva again do sometin’ ta help ya, an’ I stay true ta dose words!”  
“You insolent fool!” Nazgrim brandished his axe, putting the blade at Jul’zin’s throat. “You have only destroyed your efforts to find this peace! The Warchief grows more powerful every second, and soon, he will be unstoppable!”  
“Da ‘lliance, dey know how ya work,” Jul’zin said, backing away. “I teach each an’ every one o’ dem everyting I know, so dey can defeat ya. Ya know how many I help?  
“You have one last chance,” Nazgrim said. “Return to the ranks of the Kor’kron, and join us in killing all that oppose us, including the blasted Alliance.”  
“Dere’s no way.” Jul’zin laughed heartily. “I tell myself dat I neva gonna go back ta dat life. I done wit’ da fightin’. Bein’ Kor’kron, it take da life outta me, an’ I not gon’ become one o dem monsters again.”  
“Then you will suffer a long, agonizing death at my hands.”   
“I welcome it.” Jul’zin found his back to the wall. Even though he was panicked, he retained a calm, composed exterior.   
“Do you, Breaker?”  
“Ya, I do, Nazgrim.” Jul’zin ducked as Nazgrim swung his axe. “Ya can’t take anyting from Jul’zin.” He stepped away from Nazgrim, smiling slightly.  
General Nazgrim hurled his axe at Jul’zin, and Jul’zin grunted as it sliced across his upper arm.   
“You will fall, traitor!” Nazgrim drew a mace from his belt, raising it up. “I will crush you!”  
“Den do it.” Jul’zin put his hand on his arm, pulling away bloodied fingertips. “Ya all talk, mon.” Jul’zin dropped a fire totem beside him, pulling his hands together. “But if ya tink I goin’ down wit’out a fight, den ya be mistaken.”   
Nazgrim charged at Jul’zin, who dropped a thunderstorm at his feet. Nazgrim flinched as he was pushed back, but quickly returned, slamming his mace on Jul’zin’s shoulder. Jul’zin dropped, searing pain running up and down his arm. He tried to push himself up, but was kicked down. As his head collided with the ground, he heard a crack, and felt it coursing through his jaw. He placed a quick, mana-draining heal on himself, reducing the pain in his arm, but not enough to distract him from the axe blade that tore through his kilt and into his thigh. Jul’zin shot a bolt of lightning from his palms, but it merely stunned Nazgrim. Nazgrim grabbed Jul’zin, lifting him up and pressing him to a wall.   
“You will be nothing but a corpse when I finish with you,” Nazgrim snarled, his fingers wrapping around Jul’zin’s throat.   
“My death won’ solve da problems ya gonna have wit’ da ‘lliance.” Jul’zin snapped, a spark catching on Nazgrim’s arm and bursting into flames.   
“Fool!” Nazgrim dropped Jul’zin as he struggled to remove the burning that Jul’zin had caused.   
“Ya sure it be Jul’zin dat be da fool?” Jul’zin laughed slightly, standing up and stumbling back to the wall. “’Cause ya seem ta be makin’ lotsa mistakes, ya mon?”  
“You will pay!”  
Jul’zin raised his arm to protect his face as Nazgrim began punching him. He grunted with each strike, crying out as Nazgrim’s fist landed on his broken cheekbone. He slid down the wall as Nazgrim continued to assault him, and his chest heaved with each breath.   
“Are you going to fight back, Breaker?” Nazgrim laughed, kicking Jul’zin.   
“I done my fightin’.” Jul’zin spit blood on the ground beside him, glaring up at Nazgrim. “And ya gon’ lose, even if ya take me ‘ere.”  
“Then suffer!”  
**************  
Alaria stood in the Terrace of Light, a hood pulled up over her face. She wondered how she was going to find Ralath— the only information Jul’zin had given her was his name and location. She had no idea what his race or class was, and she had no idea what to expect. Shattrath City was a massive sanctuary, and she hadn’t spent much time there. ‘He could be Alliance or Horde,’ she reasoned. ‘Most likely Horde, but I can’t be sure. Perhaps I can find him at an auction house or a bank. If not, I don’t know what I’ll do!’ She walked outside the Terrace, looking for the banks located around it. She spotted one, and ran toward it, slowing down as she approached the entrance. Several inexperienced fighters stood in the middle of the building, exchanging herbs and metals. The Aldor bankers looked at her with contempt. She took a deep breath, composing herself. “Is Ralath here?” she asked. She received no response, so she tried again— this time, louder. “Is there a Ralath here?” she asked again, nearly yelling.   
“He would have said something,” a sour draenei woman told her.   
“Thank you.” Alaria rolled her eyes beneath the hood, striding out. She walked around, finding the Scryer’s bank. ‘Let’s try this one.’ She walked in, finding a group of highly geared individuals organizing their bank bags. ‘They must be in a guild,’ she thought. She looked at the Scryer bankers. They greeted her with a friendly wave and a smile. “Is Ralath here?” she asked.   
“What was that?” one of the members of the supposed guild asked.   
“Is Ralath here?” she repeated.   
“That would be me.”   
Alaria shrank back slightly as a blood elf approached her, donning heavy plate armour and a massive, two-handed sword. “Ralath,” she repeated.  
“I know my name rolls nicely off the tongue, but there’s no need to keep repeating it when I’m already here. What are you here for?”  
Alaria huffed. ‘Blood elves,’ she thought. “I, ah, Jul’zin.”  
“Jul’zin the Breaker?” Ralath’s voice gave an eerie echo.  
“Yes.”   
“What about him?”  
“He’s in trouble.”  
“Oh, really?” Ralath flipped his long, burnt-red hair out of his face. “And who are you?”  
“My name’s Alaria.” She debated removing her hood.  
“And how does Jul know you, hmm?” Ralath shifted his weight from one foot to the other, popping his hip.   
“I’m, well… I’m his partner,” she said.  
“I didn’t know he was partial to the Forsaken.”  
“I’m not undead.” Alaria removed her hood, drawing several stares.   
Ralath was silent a moment. “Why would he have anything to do with a night elf? We blood elves are much superior.”  
“It doesn’t matter!” she exclaimed. “Jul’zin is in trouble, and he sent me to find you.”  
“What sort of trouble could he have possibly gotten himself into?” Ralath stared at Alaria, his gaze at eye-level.   
“He got caught by the Kor’kron.”  
“Well, that wasn’t very smart of him. They’re not overly fond of his leaving their ranks.”  
“It’s not just that.” Alaria bit her lip. “He was fighting against them.”  
“He’s a shaman. He’s not nearly as strong as I am.”  
“He was helping wounded Alliance and teaching them what he knew about the Kor’kron.”  
Ralath shook his head. “Well, he’s put himself in quite a position, then.” He looked back at Alaria. “So, you’re expecting me to help you save him, aren’t you?”  
“He told me to come get you. I can’t do it alone, otherwise, I would have.” Alaria, quickly becoming frustrated, crossed her arms. “And if you don’t help, I will find someone who will, and then let Jul’zin know about it.”  
“I never said I wasn’t going to help.” Ralath rolled his eyes. “But if you’re asking me for help, you’ll play by my rules.”  
“That’s fine,” Alaria responded quickly. “We need to get to Orgrimmar, and quickly. I came as fast as I could, but I don’t know what they will have done to him.”  
“If we’re lucky, he’ll still be alive. Considering what he’s done, they’ll probably torture him before they kill him.” Ralath shrugged. “Otherwise, we will retrieve his body and deliver it to his family, if he has any.”  
Alaria looked down, somber. “How are we going to get there?”  
“That’s right. You can’t walk into Orgrimmar.” Ralath gave a haughty sigh, walking back towards the banker.  
“I can fly.”  
“Well, we have to get back to Kalimdor first. We’re in Outland.” Ralath withdrew a stack of bandages from one of his bank bags, handing the large sack back to the banker. “I have a mage friend that would be willing to give us a portal to Orgrimmar. That’s the fastest way.” He turned back to Alaria. “What did you say your name was, night elf?”  
“Alaria.”  
“Hmm. It’ll do.” Ralath walked over to the group surrounding the huge guild chest. “Elaliel,” he said, putting his hand on an undead woman’s shoulder. “I have a favor to ask of you.”  
“What?” she asked, whipping around.   
“I need a port to Orgrimmar. A friend of mine asked me for help.” He pulled out a small sack of gold coins. “I’ll pay you for your efforts.”  
“Fair enough.” She glanced at Alaria. “What’s she doing here?”  
“Oh, my friend sent her to fetch me. Not what I would have done, but not everyone can be as sensible as I.”  
“Just pay me.” She began casting, her bony arms showing beneath her sleeves.   
“Here.” Ralath dropped the sack at Elaliel’s feet, motioning to Alaria. “Come along, little girl.”  
Alaria felt her face growing hot with angst. ‘What an ass!’ she thought. ‘I can’t believe Jul’zin would talk to this type of person.’ Despite her irritation, she followed, standing beside him. ‘And he’s a shrimp. He’s the same height as I am, which is probably because of his boots.’  
“Thanks, Elaliel,” Ralath said, flippant. “You’ll see me later.”  
“If you don’t die.”   
“I’m a death knight. We don’t die.”

Alaria gasped as they stepped through the portal and into the center of Orgrimmar. She instantly transformed into a bird, flying up as quickly as possible and as far away as she could get without cutting off her vision. Ralath followed her on a massive, rusted proto-drake.   
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked., landing on the drake’s back and transforming.  
“Well, they won’t be keeping him locked away,” Ralath said. “In fact, they’re probably toying with him right now.” He looked around. “I’ve seen many prisoners taken to the Ring of Valor to die.”  
“What?”  
“It’s a gladiator ring,” he explained. “Anyone can join in, and the goal is to kill whoever else is on the field. They’ve probably put Jul down as fair game for any warrior wanting to test their blades.”  
“Then why are we just sitting here?”   
“Do you want to get yourself killed, little girl?” Ralath laughed slightly. “You forget, you’re in the Horde capital. Since you’re an Alliance, you’ll be killed on the spot if you’re not careful.”  
Alaria sighed. “That means you have to do something.”  
“Of course, I do.” Ralath urged the drake on, flying towards the ring. “I’ll go down there and fight him. What better way to go than by my blade?”  
“You’re not planning on killing him, are you?” Alaria felt herself growing furious with Ralath. “Because that’s not why he sent me to get you!”  
“Calm down, night elf. I won’t kill him. But I will have to do something to make sure I get to take him out.” He paused. “You’ll just stay on my drake until I need a ride, and then you’ll come get the both of us.”  
“I can’t do anything?”  
“You’ll be helping us get out of Orgrimmar alive. That’s something that is rather important, but I don’t want to do it.”   
Alaria shook her head. “Whatever. We just need to hurry.”  
“Let me fly down a little closer, so that I don’t hurt myself as much when I jump.” He drew his sword and a large glider, which he opened up. “Stay close. You’ll know when I’m ready for you.”   
“Please, bring him back alive,” she begged him. “He’s all I’ve got.”  
“I’ll do what I can, little girl, but I can’t go getting myself killed, either.” 

Ralath jumped down, floating slowly into the center of the Ring of Valor. He looked around, seeing Jul’zin stumbling away from a group of hunters and their pets. The sounds of the people in the stands were deafening, and contributed to Jul’zin’s obvious disorientation. Ralath sighed, landing in the center of the ring and looking at the group of hunters.   
“Back away,” he ordered, brandishing his blade. “He’s mine.”  
“You’ll have to fight us,” a young orc man challenged.   
“That should be easy.” Ralath looked at Jul’zin, who was using the time to attempt to heal himself.   
“There are three of us and our pets.” A blood elf woman pointed out. “And there’s just one of you.”  
“You have no idea how good I am.” Ralath extended his arm, purple, shadowy fingers wrapping around their tauren hunter companion behind them and pulling him over. “I could kill you with one hit.” He threw his fist to the ground, shockwaves coming from beneath his feet and sending heat coursing through each hunter’s body. “I could boil and watch you drown in your own blood, I could suffocate you, your feet dangling in the air as you clawed at my invisible hand, or you can leave me to have my fun. Which will it be, hmm?”  
The tauren backed away, calling his cat with him.  
“Fine.” The blood elf woman snorted, recalling her dragon. “You win.”  
“Good. Now leave.” Ralath turned his attention to Jul’zin, who had dropped a fire totem at his feet as he knelt, recovering his breath. “Jul’zin the Breaker,” he said, approaching him. “What have you done this time? I really don’t like having to go on rescue missions, you know.”  
Jul’zin was silent a moment, pushing himself to his feet. “Ralath?”  
“That would be my name.” He dropped icy chains at Jul’zin’s feet. “If you can put up with me for a little while, I can get you out of here, but you will get hurt.”  
Jul’zin laughed, grimacing as he met a frosty touch from Ralath’s plate-shrouded hand. “I been doin’ dis fo’ a long while, mon. Dey been hittin’ at Jul’zin since he been arrested.” He crumbled beneath Ralath’s blade as it bit into his shoulder.   
“You shouldn’t have gotten yourself into this mess!” Ralath roared with a bestial vigor as he bent Jul’zin’s arm behind his back, pulling him up. “You know how I feel about being bothered!”  
“Jul’zin wouldn’t ‘ave… if he could get out hisself…” His face twisted as Ralath pulled his head back.   
“And your little Alliance friend, she’s a pain.”   
Jul’zin’s head began to spin and a sharp pain in his side appeared as Ralath dropped him.   
“I’m going to knock you out. The crowd is calling for your death.” Ralath placed his foot in the center of Jul’zin’s back. “And you don’t look like you’re going to last much longer with me.”  
Jul’zin attempted to push himself up, meeting a well-placed kick in the side of his head. He instantly lost consciousness, his arms and head falling to the ground.   
“It seems I’ve won,” Ralath said, more to himself than the rambunctious crowd. He grabbed Jul’zin’s arms, bringing his body up and slinging it over his plated shoulder.   
“Death knight!” Two armed, orc guards approached him. “You have done well in slaying the traitor. Come with us for your reward.”  
“All I want is the body,” Ralath snorted, his voice reverberating in his throat. “This man could prove to be a most faithful servant for me. After all, he was quite a soldier, hmm?”  
“General Nazgrim has ordered us to retrieve the body,” they explained to him.  
“You let me go,” Ralath ordered. “Or he will have a different body to retrieve.” He tore an earring from Jul’zin’s ear, putting it in the orc’s hand. “You give Nazgrim this, and you tell him that I destroyed the troll’s body with my final blow, and you tell him that this ring was all you could find of him.”  
The orc turned to his partner, shrugging. “What does it matter if he takes a dead body? Less cleanup for us.”  
The second orc nodded. “You better go, blood elf.”  
“Farewell, then.” Ralath whistled, his proto-drake landing in the center of the arena. He climbed onto its back, draggin Jul’zin with him and laying his body across his lap. “For the Horde!” 

Alaria watched in her avian form as Ralath ascended, carrying Jul’zin’s body with him.   
She knew that she couldn’t do anything until they found a safe place to stay, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from his battered body. She nearly fell from the sky as Ralath appeared in front of her, but she continued to hover.  
“Follow me, little girl,” he said. “Jul is alive, but he needs to be healed. I brought some bandages with me, so you can do that when we land.”  
She nodded, following him as he sped forward. She wondered where they were going. She hoped it was someplace safe, but she didn’t expect much of anything— being an Alliance and travelling with a Horde had made many places that were once sanctuaries into dangerous cities. Soon, they descended, finding themselves in Azshara. She transformed into a cat as soon as they hit the ground, following Ralath to a small, secluded section of the forest and outside a cavern, which appeared to be uninhabited and rarely disturbed.   
“I’ll get him down,” Ralath said. “And I’ll give you my bandages, but after that, I am going to leave, since I have no business being in such a part of the continent.” He climbed down from his proto-drake, pulling Jul’zin’s body with him. “If he wants to talk to me, he can send me a letter or come to Shattrath.”  
Alaria transformed, standing beside Ralath. “Thank you,” she said. “I couldn’t have gotten him by myself.”  
“Of course not.” Ralath shrugged, dragging Jul’zin’s body into the cave. “I do what I can without getting my hands too dirty.” He laid Jul’zin on the ground, reaching into a small pouch and handing Alaria a stack of bandages. “Are you going to need anything else, hmm?”  
“Do you have some water?”   
“Sure.” He pulled several waterskins from his bag, tossing them on the ground. “You should be set.” Ralath returned to the drake, climbing back into the saddle. “Just let Jul know that I couldn’t stay, night elf. He’ll understand.” 

Without a chance to say another word, Ralath flew off, leaving Alaria alone with Jul’zin’s unconscious, broken body. She untied her cloak, spreading it on the ground. ‘The least I can do for him is make him as comfortable as I can,’ she thought, squatting behind him. She reached under his arms, standing slightly as she dragged him onto her cloak. Alaria looked him over, debating. She drew a small skinning knife, cutting a piece of her cape and soaking it in water. She began cleaning the blood from Jul’zin’s skin, making slow and deliberate motions. She smiled slightly, tears coming to her eyes as she cleaned off Jul’zin’s bruised cheeks. “At least you’re alive,” she said quietly, pouring more water on the rag. She placed the water-drenched cloth on Jul’zin’s stomach as she carefully removed his necklace and bracers, placing them beside her. She wiped the blood from his chest and shoulders, and proceeded to pour the rest of the waterskin on the rag, wiping off his arms. She looked down at Jul’zin’s kilt, which was torn in several places. Her eyes were drawn to a particularly large laceration on his leg, which bled through the kilt. She pulled Jul’zin’s mail kilt from around his waist, setting it with the rest of his gear. She felt her face grow warm as she cleaned the cut on his muscular thigh. “He did this for me,” she told herself. “I can do it for him.”   
Alaria grabbed the windwool bandages that Ralath had left behind, and she began wrapping the many cuts on Jul’zin’s body with the soft cloth. She used ten of the twenty bandages, setting the rest with the extra water skins. Alaria looked outside, and noticed that it was beginning to get dark. ‘I should get a fire going,’ she thought. She stepped ouside the cave, picking up sticks from nearby. She found one large log, and she stashed it under her arm as she gathered kindling. Alaria returned with her arms full, dropping the wood on the ground near Jul’zin’s feet. She assembled a small fire, standing up and raising her arms above her head. A beam of light appeared on the wood, instantly lighting it. She tended the fire until it burned steadily, then sat beside Jul’zin, who hadn’t moved. She felt her emotions burning in her breast, and tears ran down her cheeks. She grabbed Jul’zin’s hand, holding it between her own and kissing his bruised knuckles. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt like this… you’re too good…” Alaria placed his hand back down to his side. “You’re the kindest man I know.” She ran her fingers along his split lip, scooting closer to him. “If only I’d have found Ralath faster!” She curled up beside him. “Please, just be alright.” 

******  
Jul’zin opened his eyes, a blurry figure looming over him.  
“Jul’zin?”  
He closed his eyes and reopened them, Alaria’s figure becoming more clear. “’laria?” he asked, his voice hoarse.  
“Thank Elune!” She grabbed his hand, pressing it to her lips. “Are you cold?” she asked him.  
“Juz’ a little, mon.” He attempted to push himself up, but met Alaria’s gentle hand on his chest.   
“I’ll find something,” she assured him. “I didn’t want to use your kilt because it’s so heavy, but that may be what we use—“  
“My kilt?”  
“You had a huge cut on your leg,” she explained, her cheeks growing warm. “So, I had to fix it.”  
“’laria, dey didn’t hurt ya, did dey?” He put his hand on her cheek.  
“No, Jul’zin.” She paused. “They didn’t hurt me.” She held his hand.  
“Good.” He smiled slightly, wincing. “How bad did dey get Jul’zin?”  
“You’re alive,” she assured him.   
“Ya can tell me, love. I wanna know.”  
“You… you’ll have some more scars,” Alaria told him. “And a nick in your ear, but I don’t know anything else.”   
“Dat’s not bad.” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Jul’zin wants ta hold ‘laria,” he said. “Let ‘im sit up so he can do dat. He already hurtin’, so a little more wouldn’t do too much, mon.”   
“I’ll lay down,” she insisted. “That way, you don’t have to move.”  
“’laria, ya too good ta me.”   
Alaria lay against Jul’zin’s side, putting her head on his shoulder. She felt her eyes begin to water as Jul’zin wrapped his arm around her.  
“I was scared, mon,” Jul’zin admitted, squeezing Alaria. “I don’ fear death a bit, ‘cause da spirits always be talkin’ ta me anyway.”   
“Then what were you afraid of?”  
“I didn’t wanna lose ya, mon. Ya da ting I care ‘bout most in dis world. I didn’t care if I died, but I didn’t wanna leave ya alone here.”  
Alaria attempted to speak, the words lodging themselves in her throat.  
“An’ I kept goin’, ‘cause I knew ya’d find Ralath. He a piece o’ work, but he my mate, an’ I knew he’d help ya out. Dat way, ya didn’t hafta be alone, ‘cause I know how ya feel when ya by yaself.”  
“I was afraid they’d killed you,” Alaria admitted.   
“’laria, dat hurts.”  
Alaria realized that she had been holding on to Jul’zin’s injured shoulder, and she whipped her hand back. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered.   
“Ya fine, mon. I jus’ in some pain. Ya mean well, an’ I know dat. Hell, ya fixed Jul’zin up.” He laughed slightly. “An’ it ‘ppears dat I got meself pretty broken.”  
Alaria pushed herself up, Jul’zin still holding on to her arm. “I could have helped you if I’d have stayed with you,” she said.   
“I told ya ta go,” he said, grimacing. “I didn’t want dem ta get ya ‘gain, cause dey hurt ya. Jul’zin can take dem, ‘cause he used ta dat. He used ta bein’ broken.”  
Alaria pulled away, standing up. “You shouldn’t have to be.” She unbuckled her jerkin. “I’m going to give you my shirt,” she said, unbuttoning the green linen tunic. “And I’ll work on repairing your kilt.”  
“’laria, I be fine,” Jul’zin insisted, sitting up. “Don’ worry ‘bout it, I be fine ta get movin’.”  
“You should rest,” she insisted. “We’re safe for now.” She removed her shirt, dropping it at her feet as she got back into her jerkin. “Besides, you don’t even know where we are.”  
“Ya got me dere, mon.”   
Alaria grabbed her tunic, wrapping it around Jul’zin’s shoulders. “It’s not much,” she said, noticing how poorly it fit. “But it’s all I’ve got.”   
“’laria, ya didn’t need ta do dat fo’ Jul’zin.”  
“Yes, I did.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You gave me gear when I had none, so I should return the favor. Like I said, it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”  
“Ya be a stubborn elf,” Jul’zin said with a slight chuckle.   
“How else are people supposed to listen to me if I’m not?” She sat back down at his side. “I’m a woman.”  
“I wouldn’t want ta be on ya bad side,” he replied. “Ya know how ta use dem claws ya got.”  
Alaria laughed. “You completely destroyed me,” she pointed out.  
“I jus’ had lotsa practice. Ya strong, ‘laria.” Jul’zin pressed his forehead to Alaria’s temple. “An’ ya always watchin’ ova Jul’zin. He wouldn’t be able ta do da tings he do wit’out ya, mon.”   
Alaria reached up, putting her hand on Jul’zin’s cheek. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”  
Jul’zin put his hand over hers. “Ralath help ya, but I don’ see ‘im.”  
“He left. He said he couldn’t stay.”  
“He be an interestin’ guy.” He smiled. “Are ya sure we be safe ‘ere?”  
“Yes. We’re well outside Durotar. If someone finds us, I’ll probably be able to take care of them.”   
Jul’zin nodded. “Tank ya, ‘laria.”  
“It’s fine,” she replied.   
“Really, mon.” He squeezed her hand. “I not worryin’ any mo’, ‘cause I got ya ‘ere. I hurtin’, but I happy. Ya do good tings ta Jul’zin. Ya do good tings.”


	6. 'Tis the Season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaria invites some old friends to join her for a Winter Veil celebration without telling them that Jul'zin will be with her.

“Look! The Winter Veil decorations are set up!”  
“Ya, mon?”   
Alaria turned to Jul’zin, beaming. “This is my favorite time of year,” she told him. “Even if it is cold. There’s just so much to do!”  
“I never did much, mon. Bein’ Kor’kron took all da spirit o’ da holidays out.” Jul’zin adjusted his cloak, fumbling with the ties.   
“Well, we should have a party.” She paused. “You have a bunch of friends, right?”  
“Ya met one o’ dem,” he replied. “Jul’zin gotta couple more dat he still talk to. Why don’t ‘laria bring some o’ her friends?”  
“They’re not trusting of someone who would leave them for a Horde.”  
“Not even dat silly draenei friend o’ yours?”   
“Vel?” Alaria laughed slightly. “He’s the most upset with me.”  
“’haps if ya get him to come, he see dat I not so bad?”   
“I don’t know, Jul’zin.”   
“It be in Dalaran or Shattrath, dat way, no one be fightin’.”   
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Alaria smiled, looking up at the gray Northerend sky.  
“If dat don’t work, well, Jul’zin don’ know what gon’ happen den.” He paused. “We invite dem ta Dalaran in da Legerdemain Lounge fo’ some drinks ‘morrow night, an’ den we see what happens.”  
“I’ll send a couple of posts, and hopefully, they’ll respond to me, or at least come.”   
“We sit down an’ write some letters, den?” Jul’zin gave Alaria’s ponytail a playful tug, laughing.   
“Hey!” She reached out, attempting to grab his ear and missing as he stood up straight. “That’s not fair,” she huffed.   
“I jus’ be taller den night elves, mon.” He resumed slouching, patting Alaria’s head.   
“Let’s get these written,” she said, sitting on a bench. She looked across the cobblestone street, noticing the inn. She realized that very inn was the one in which she had spent her first night with Jul’zin as her love and not her mentor, the first night she was bridging the gap between Horde and Alliance.   
“Ya got a pen, mon?” Jul’zin held several pieces of parchment, handing some to Alaria.  
“Yeah.” She reached in her backpack, pulling out two inkwells and two feather pens. “I’m an inscriptionist. Of course I have pens.”  
“Tanks, mon.” He sat beside her, sitting the paper on his knee and hunching over.   
Alaria began writing her own letters. ‘I’ll invite Vel and Meredith,’ she decided. ‘And maybe Trixie, she might be fun to have around.’ She watched as Jul’zin scratched his messages onto the parchment. ‘He has terrible handwriting,’ she realized. ‘Perhaps that’s unavoidable, since he only has three fingers.’ She quickly penned three letters, sealing them and gathering a silver piece for postage.   
“Jul’zin’s almost done, mon,” he told her, setting his second letter on her lap. “Jus’ got one more.”  
She glanced at his letters. ‘Ralath Dawnwatcher and Speegle Fizznozzle. I’ve met Ralath, and he was a conceited ass. I’ve not met Speegle, though I’m going to guess that he or she is a goblin.’ She looked over as Jul’zin finished his third letter, then sealed it with a quick lick across the edge of the envelope.   
“Here ya go,” he said, placing it in her pile. “Want Jul’zin ta get da postage?”  
“That’s alright,” Alaria responded, pulling a second silver piece from her bags. “I’ve got it covered.”  
“Alright, den.”   
‘Who is Kivia Shieldwrecker?’ she wondered silently. ‘I wonder if any of these people will even show up.’  
“Let’s go, ‘laria. We got tings ta do, mon.” Jul’zin stood, offering her his hand.   
She smiled slightly, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet. Alaria ran over to a mailbox, sticking in her coins for the postage before slipping the letters in the slot. “Mailed,” she declared, turning back to Jul’zin. “Now what?”  
“We wait. Dey get da mail today, an’ da party be tomorrow, so we have some time ta rest. Dat last quest we went on was rough, mon, and Jul’zin see dat ya still tired.”  
“Am not,” she huffed.   
“Ya be a bad liar, mon.” Jul’zin laughed. “Jul’zin see right through dat.”  
“How are you not tired?”  
“I am tired, mon.” He grabbed Alaria’s shoulder, pulling her next to him. “Ya just don’t notice it ‘cause I be keepin’ ya goin’ ‘til we find a good place ta stop.” He continued forward, striding into the inn they had set as their hearth and holiday meeting place. “Since we be livin’ here, we get some rest, ya?”  
“I guess.” Alaria followed Jul’zin up the stairs to a room. She caught a glance of a Pandaren and a Worgen having a heated exchange, shaking her head as she heard glass breaking.   
“Come on, ‘laria. You be slow.” Jul’zin had already dropped his bags, and was taking off his gear. “Jul’zin gon’ be naked before ya even get in da room.”  
“Don’t take all your clothes off,” she pleaded.   
“Why? Is ‘laria embarrassed?” Jul’zin chuckled, dropping his bracers. “Is I too old fo’ ya?”  
“No,” she assured him. “You’re not even that old, so why do you keep bringing it up?”  
“Jul’zin knows dat ‘laria young an’ restless.”  
“I’m probably as old as you are,” she retorted.   
“Oh, really?” Jul’zin approached her, smirking. “Is dat a challenge I hear?”  
“Perhaps.” Alaria smiled.  
“Well, ya better be well rested, ‘cause ya gonna need ya strength.” Jul’zin pulled his cloak from his shoulders, tossing it on the ground. “I be forty years old, mon.”  
“I’m one-hundred and twenty.” Alaria laughed, shrieking as Jul’zin tackled her. “Hey, that’s not fair!”  
“I told ya ta be ready,” he snickered. “But ya didn’t listen ta me.” Jul’zin slipped his fingers beneath Alaria’s chestpiece, tickling her sides. “So ya gotta pay da price.”  
“Stop that!” Alaria giggled, trying to push herself away. “Jul’zin!”  
“’laria.” A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat.   
“Jul’zin, stop!” She continued laughing, grabbing at his hands. “I’m glad you don’t have more fingers!”  
“I wish I had more right now, mon. Dat way, you be laughin’ more.” He pressed his forehead to hers, a wicked grin spread across his lips. “Dey don’ call me Jul’zin da Breaker fo’ nothin’, mon.”   
“Stop!” she squeaked, tears of laughter coming to her eyes. “I’ll go bear!”  
“Dat won’t stop Jul’zin,” he assured her, swinging his leg over her body. “If ya go bear, Jul’zin got ways o’ fixin’ dat, too.” He paused. “I got an offer fo’ ya, ‘laria.” He continued to tickle her.  
“I’ll do it!” she answered him, trying to stop his hands from moving.  
“Dat be mighty fast, mon.” He laughed. “I stop if ya kiss me. Jul’zin like dem night elf kisses, an‘ his night elf be right here wit‘ ‘im.”  
“Just stop!” She let go of his hands, putting her hands on his neck.   
“I be waitin’ mon.”   
Alaria brushed her lips on Jul’zin’s, breathing a sigh of relief as Jul’zin’s hands slid from underneath her armour. She kissed him again, watching as his eyes closed.   
“’laria,” he said, pulling back. “Ya make me feel like I be flyin’.”  
“Really?”  
“Ya, mon. Why else I be sayin’ so?” He patted the side of her face. “Ya know, I be noticin’ dat ya be shorter den da rest o’ dem night elves around.”  
“I’m not that short.”  
“Shorter den Jul’zin, which make you short.” He chuckled.   
“You’re just tall.”  
“Dat too, mon.” 

The following evening, Alaria and Jul’zin prepared for their Winter Veil get-together. Alaria had pulled out one of her nicer sets of armour and polished the leather, trying to make herself presentable. Jul’zin had made no additional efforts; instead, he helped Alaria to get ready.   
“How do we want to do this?” Alaria asked, combing her long dark hair.   
“Jul’zin don’t care, mon. He trust dat his people will be good.”  
Alaria thought a moment. “What if we separate at first?” she suggested. “So that they don’t immediately know that we planned this.”  
“We can do dat, if ‘laria wants to.” Jul’zin shrugged, then adjusted the several bone rings in his ears.   
“I think we should.” Alaria cringed slightly as the words rolled off her tongue. “Just to be safe.”  
“We in Dalaran, mon. Dey can’t be fightin’ here.”   
“You never know what people will do,” she argued.   
“Dat’s true, but you so superstitious!” Jul’zin laughed slightly. “Ya tink dat someone gon’ put some bad voodoo on ya? If dey do, I got my own voodoo.”  
“I just don’t want something terrible to happen.”  
“It won’t, ‘laria. You be fine, Jul’zin promise ya.” He grabbed her little finger between his massive thumb and first finger, shaking it slightly. “Jus’ be in high spirits, mon.”  
“I will.” She turned to Jul’zin. “Do I look alright?” she asked him.  
“Well, ya be all dolled up,” he said.   
“You’re trying to avoid answering my question.”  
“Jul’zin jus’ tink, well…”  
“Well, what?” Alaria put her hands on her hips.  
“Jul’zin tink da night elf be prettiest when she lose da armour.”  
Alaria felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. “I’m not going down there naked,” she declared.   
“Well, ya asked me fo’ me opinion, an’ I gave it ta ya.” Jul’zin snickered.   
“Let’s go.” Alaria opened the door of the room, walking out and down the winding spiral staircase to the main area of the Legerdemain Lounge.   
“’Ey, wait fo’ me!”Jul’zin jumped down the stairs, wincing slightly as he hit the floor.   
“Alright.” She scanned the room . “I’ll sit over there,” she said, pointing to a small table in the corner. “And maybe you should sit over there?” She pointed to a table across the room from her chosen spot.   
“Dat be mighty far ‘way,” Jul’zin said.   
“It won’t be for very long,” she assured him. “Just until everyone gets here.”  
“An’ what next?”  
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” She huffed. “How in the world are we going to introduce the fact that we are working on this together?”  
“Jul’zin tink dat ‘laria be worryin’ too much.” He put his hand on her head, ruffling her hair. “He take care o’ dat.”   
“Are you sure?”  
“I be more den capable o’ dat.” He squeezed her shoulder with his three-fingered hand.   
“Alright.” She hesitated. “I’ll see you in a little bit, I guess.”  
“You be doin’ fine, ‘laria.” Jul’zin smiled, looking up. “’Ey, look at dat. Mistletoe. Dat mean ‘laria gotta kiss me, ya?”  
Alaria playfully rolled her eyes. “Do I have to?”  
“Dat what da holidays ‘bout, ya mon?”  
Alaria stood up on the tips of her toes, kissing Jul’zin’s cheek.   
“Ya ready?”  
“I guess.”  
Jul’zin patted her on the back. “You gonna do fine, mon. Jul’zin be takin’ care o’ tings.”

Alaria sighed, plodding over to her corner and sitting down. She pulled a ginseng tea out of her backpack, sipping it. She glanced at Jul’zin, who waved to a male goblin just outside the door. ‘That must be Speegle,’ she deduced. She sat her head in her hands, remaining silent. She looked to the door, seeing Velimn. She waved in his direction, catching his eye. He trotted over to her, hugging her.  
“Alaria,” he said, releasing her. “What in the Naaru’s name have you been doing up here by yourself? We’ve all been worried about you back in Stormwind.”  
“I just needed some time alone,” she lied. “And I figured it would be easier to just leave.”  
“You should have at least told us that you would be going.”  
Alaria shrugged. “I suppose you got my letter, then.”  
“Why else would I be up in Dalaran?” Velimn sat on the bench across from her. “Is it just me?”  
“No. I invited Meredith and Trixie too, but I don’t know if they’ll be coming.” She stole a look at Jul’zin, who was now accompanied by Ralath. “I just wanted to see you all, and I thought the Winter Veil would be the perfect opportunity.”  
“It is a good place to start.” Velimn sat his sword and shield down on the ground beside them. “You’re looking nice today,” he commented.   
“Thanks.” Alaria felt herself blushing. ‘I wonder if Jul’zin appreciates this.’   
“Hey! There she is!” Trixie had made a glamorous entrance, Meredith following behind her.   
Alaria smiled at her gnome companion, waving her over.   
“Goodness, dearie!” Trixie stood up on a chair. “I haven’t heard from you in a long time! How are you?”  
She laughed slightly at the gnome, whose bright green hair was pulled back into pigtails. “I’m doing fine.”  
“Hello,” Meredith said.   
“It’s good to see you,” Alaria said, hugging each of them. “Thank you for coming out, all of you.” She walked up to the bar, ordering a drink for each of them. “Drinks on me,” she said. “As thanks for making your way up here.”  
Meredith, a priest, adjusted her robes as she sat down. “Thank you for having us,” she said. “And for finally getting in touch with us. We’ve been worried sick.”  
Alaria handed them each a drink, taking a heavy swig of her own. “I was telling Vel that I needed some time alone,” she said. “I was afraid that you all would say no.”  
“That’s preposterous!” Trixie giggled slightly. “You know we would support you, especially after that horrible encounter with the Horde!”  
Alaria refrained from commenting, knowing that it was going to come up as soon as Jul’zin returned. She noticed a built, orcish woman enter the inn, walking straight to Jul’zin. ‘That’s who Kivia is,’ the thought bitterly.   
“Why did you choose this place, of all the places in Dalaran?” Velimn asked.   
“I like it,” she answered quickly. “A lot.”  
“I suppose that’s what matters.” Velimn removed his helmet, sitting it with his weapon and shield.   
They all turned their heads as they heard boisterous laughing coming from Jul’zin’s table.  
“Horde,” Velimn muttered.   
“Dalaran is neutral,” Trixie pointed out. “According to law, both factions can be present in a sanctuary, and violence is strictly prohibited while in said sanctuary, so we have to—”  
“Thank you, Trixie,” Meredith sighed. “We know that Horde are allowed, but that doesn’t mean we have to like them.”  
“The Horde are despicable,” Velimn spat. “Their leader represents the corruption the Horde have brought to Azeroth.”  
Alaria bit her lip. ‘This is going to be impossible,’ she thought.   
“I remember my first Horde kill,” Trixie declared. “And it was glorious! While I was still in training, I fought with my faithful elemental against orcs, nasty beings!”  
“Have you been to Orgrimmar?” Velimn asked.   
“Many times,” Meredith answered. “I have healed many sieges on Orgrimmar.”  
“That must be a thrilling story to tell!” Trixie exclaimed. “How you survived the grip of the Horde!”  
“Alaria survived the Horde,” Velimn pointed out.   
She nodded, trying to maintain her composure. She realized how weak she felt without Jul’zin by her side, surrounded by friends who were equal in experience and superior in equipment and contempt.   
“Tell us about it!” Trixie insisted.   
“That would be interesting to hear about,” Meredith agreed.   
“You never did tell me what really happened to you,” Velimn pointed out.   
Alaria sighed. “Not much happened,” she admitted. “Though I survived Garrosh and General Nazgrim.”  
“That’s a feat in itself,” Meredith said.   
“I suppose.”   
“’Ey, mon, look o’er at dat!”

Alaria’s eyes lit up as Jul’zin approached the table she was seated at, accompanied by his companions.   
“Horde,” Velimn hissed, picking up his sword and shield.   
“I tink I see ‘lliance jus’ sittin’ alone, ya mon?”  
“They could learn a thing or two from the blood elves.” Ralath huffed. “None of them look near as good as I do.”  
“Can we kill them?” Kivia gripped her sword with a fierce intensity.  
“No, mon. We be in Dalaran. Dere be no killin’ here.” Jul’zin approached Alaria. “But nothin’ say we can’t join dem, mon.”  
“Begone, pests!” Velimn shooed them. “We want nothing to do with you!”  
“Why ya say dat, mon? We mean ya no harm. Jus’ bein’ friendly, tryin’ ta restore relations after da Warchief gone crazy, ya?”  
“I cannot comprehend why a group of heathens such as yourselves would dare intrude on our meeting,” Trixie said ith a snort.   
“’Ey, watch your mouth, gnome.” Speegle put one hand on a dagger. “You realize who you’re dealing with, right?”  
Trixie eyed the goblin, then turned to Alaria. “We have no idea what any of you are doing here. We were simply invited for a friendly drink with our good companion.”  
“And we are in the same situation, you pint-sized dictionary.” Ralath crossed his arms in front of his chest.   
“Alaria?” Meredith asked. “Do you know what’s going on?”  
Alaria remained silent, pulling at her jerkin.  
“Alaria?” Velimn stood up, pushing his chair to the table.   
She hesitated, looking to Jul’zin for guidance. She sighed as he nodded. “I know them,” she said overtly.   
“What?” Velimn towered over her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Alaria, what are you talking about?”  
“I know them,” she repeated. She caught a smile on Jul’zin’s face. “I knew there was no other way to convince you to come up here, so I worked with them.” She stood up. “I just want to show you that they’re not all bad. Just because they’re from the Horde doesn’t make them evil. We could do so much if we cooperated with them.” Alaria shrunk under Velimn’s gaze.   
“So you lied to us?”  
“You wouldn’t have listened if I hadn’t!” She looked to Meredith and Trixie, who stared with open mouths. “I wanted to prove to you that peace is possible. I’ve already made mine.” She approached Jul’zin, who stood up slightly straighter as he welcomed her into his arms.   
“What in the Naaru’s name are you doing?” Velimn raised his sword.   
“What’s it look like she’s doing, dumbass?” Kivia snorted. “Obviously, you Alliance are still blind.”  
“Guys.” Alaria turned to face them, holding one of Jul’zin’s hands. “I… I don’t know how else to say it—”  
“Jus’ say it, mon.” Jul’zin squeezed her hand. “My mates already know.”  
“Alaria, what are you doing?” Meredith stood up beside Velimn, her eyes shifting across each of the Horde in front of them.   
“I’m in love with him.” She looked up to Jul’zin. “The reason I can’t go back to Stormwind is because I want to stay with him.”  
“A troll?” Velimn’s fist shook as he choked the shaft of his sword.   
“Not jus’ any troll, mon.” Jul’zin stood up completely straight, standing a good foot over even Velimn, who was seven feet tall. “’laria won’ tell ya, cause she tryin’ to save ya da anger, but I be defendin’ ‘er if ya try ta blame ‘er fo’ it all, ‘cause I be part o’ it.”   
“Alaria, have you gone crazy?” Trixie donned her staff, driving it into the ground.   
“’laria not be da crazy one here.” Jul’zin took several deep breaths, looking down on the group. “I introduce meself, ya? Jul’zin da Breaker be what dey call me.”   
“Alaria, step away!” Velimn approached her and Jul’zin. “You don’t understand the danger you’re in!”  
“I’ve been living with this danger for a long time.” She pressed herself against Jul’zin’s stomach. “King Varian wouldn’t believe me, and neither would you. I’m showing you that he’s not what you think he is. He’s not a bloodthirsty monster.”  
“No, that would be me.” Kivia curled her lip. “I can fight you if that’s what you’re lookin’ for, draenei.”  
Jul’zin extended his long arm towards Velimn. “Dat’s what dey do in da ‘lliance, ya?” he asked . “Dey shake hands, ya mon?”  
Velimn looked at Jul’zin’s weathered hand.   
“Ya think I gon’ hex ya?” Jul’zin laughed slightly. “I don’ even have a weapon wit’ me. ‘Sides, I won’ harm a friend of ‘laria’s. Consida dis a peace treaty while ya here.”  
“Why? You know there’s a price on your head for the people you’ve killed.”  
“If dat be da case, all o’ us have a price, ‘cause we all kill somebody.” Jul’zin shook his hand. “After dis, ya can do what ya want, but fo’ dis evening, we have peace.”  
Velimn reluctantly extended his own, gauntleted hand, grimacing as Jul’zin took his hand and gave it a vigorous shake.   
“Now, why don’ we sit down and have a drink, ya?” Jul’zin pulled away from Alaria, turning to his companions. “Ya gon’ join Jul’zin?”  
“It might be funny to see what these Alliance do with a Kor’kron around,” Kivia said.   
“I no Kor’kron now, Kivya. I quit dat life a long while back.”  
Alaria looked at her friends, unable to smile. “You can leave if you want,” she said quietly. “I’ll understand if you want to. I just wanted to see each of you, and have you meet the man I’m spending my time with.”  
“You have done something completely forbidden by the Alliance,” Velimn said. “But that doesn’t mean we’ll walk out on you right now.”   
“Velimn is right, dearie.” Trixie shrugged her shoulders. “But we might as well accompany you for the evening. It is the holiday season, anyways. Perhaps some interesting events may accompany this little gathering of yours.”  
“And I came with Trixie,” Meredith said.   
“’laria, ya ready? Dis here table won’ be big ‘nough fo’ da eight o’ us.” Jul’zin pointed to a larger table in the center of the inn. “’ow ‘bout dere? Yer ‘lliance can sit on one side, an’ my Horde on da otha.”  
“That’s fine.” She sighed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.  
“You be fine, ‘laria. Jul’zin don’ mind.” He smiled. “Dem friends ya have, dey learn dey can’t change ya mind. At least dat what Jul’zin be hopin’.” 

Alaria smiled slightly as she sat down across from Jul’zin, Velimn sitting next to her.   
“’ey, pretty lady!” Jul’zin waved to a bartender. “Can ya bring some drinks, mon?”   
“Sure thing.”   
Alaria felt Jul’zin’s toes on her boots, smiling.   
“Hey! Stop looking at me in that particular fashion!” Trixie crossed her arms, glaring at Speegle. “I do not appreciate it!”  
“You ever rode a rocket before?” Speegle chuckled, folding his fingers together.   
“Stop that,” Ralath said, elbowing him. “We haven’t even gotten drinks yet. You can’t be serioiusly considering something like that without being drunk.”  
“Yer gettin’ in the way!”  
“Alaria, do you seriously know all of them?” Trixie asked.  
“Not really,” she admitted. “I’ve meet Ralath once—”  
“Who?”  
“The blood elf.”   
“I hear someone talking about me.” Ralath seemed to beam. “Fitting.”   
“’Ey, thanks mate!” Jul’zin started passing tankards around the table. “Dis ought ta calm tings down, ya?”   
“Thank you.” Velimn took the tankard from Jul’zin, his voice heavy with contempt.   
“It be da holidays, mon! Cheer up, ya?” Jul’zin reached across the table and patted Velimn’s plated shoulder. “I ain’t gon’ eat ya yet, mon.”  
“Why are you seeing such a primitive monster?” Velimn asked Alaria.   
“He’s not going to eat you,” she huffed. “You take everything so seriously.”   
“He nearly killed you.”  
“He helped me.”  
“You’re mistaken, Alaria.”   
“Why are you carting around such a skinny little elf?” Kivia asked Jul’zin. “Especially when you’ve been known for looking at girls with a whole lot more meat on them.”  
“Maybe I changed me mind.”   
“Well, you know I’ve been lookin’ for a man half as decent as you, and haven’t been successful. You’re the most savage one I’ve met, and I liked it.”  
“Jul’zin tink ya might’ve been a troll once, mon.”  
“I wouldn’t dream of it, you ape.”  
Alaria watched Jul’zin’s banter with Kivia. ‘I don’t know how I feel anymore,’ she thought. ‘If what Kivia says is right, I’m not even Jul’zin’s type. Maybe Velimn is right.’   
“This is really good,” Meredith commented. “Is it a special in Dalaran?”  
“Nah, jus’ some Honey Mead.” Jul’zin answered.   
She nodded. “Alaria,” she said. “You’re not talking much.”  
“I know,” Alaria said. “I’m just thinking.”  
“Don’ be tinkin, mon.” Jul’zin curled his toes around the tips of her boots. “It be a party.”  
Alaria smiled slightly. “I know.”   
“Well, this group is a drag,” Ralath sighed, rolling his eyes. “Jul, your little Alliance friend isn’t terribly interesting, and neither are her friends.”  
“Ralath, ya get mean when ya drink,” he replied.  
“I’m just being honest.”   
“You’re just a blood elf,” Speegle pointed out. “I’ve never met one of you that doesn’t have something brutally honest to say, ya know. You’re all so full of yourselves.”  
“Look who’s talking, rocket man.” Kivia looked across the table to Velimn. “Why are you so sour, draenei? Take a couple drinks and lighten up, or I might have to punch you.”  
“Is that a threat?” Velimn slammed his tankard down.   
“More of a promise, you superstitious alien.”  
“You’re an alien as much as we are, orc.”   
“You wanna go?”  
“Sure, let’s go.” Velimn stood up, dropping his weapon. “You and I, orc.”  
“”Ey, don’ be fightin’.” Jul’zin pulled Kivia back down. “ Dis be friendly, mon. ‘Ow ‘bout an arm wrestle? Dat be kinda fightin’ wit’out fightin’.”   
“You?” Velimn snarled.   
“Why not, mon?” Jul’zin let a smile creep across his face. “I be more fittin’ den Kivya be, though she be mighty strong.”   
“You ass.” Kivia punched Jul’zin in the arm, and he flinched.   
“Jul’zin waitin’ fo’ da draenei, if he wanna go.”   
“Trade me spots, Alaria.” Velimn insisted. “I’m going to show your troll friend the might of the Alliance.”   
“Vel, don’t,” she pleaded, standing up.   
“He’s the one who insisted I should go against him and not his girlfriend over there.”   
Alaria scooted over, sitting in front of Kivia, who gave her a scornful glare.   
“Ya ready?” Jul’zin leaned up on the table, setting his elbow on the wooden surface. “Ya may wanna get rid o’ dat gauntlet, mon.”  
Velimn pulled his gauntlet off, setting it in front of Alaria. “As you wish, Kor’kron.” He took his spot across from Jul’zin, placing his arm on the table and grabbing Jul’zin’s massive hand. Though he was a very large, built man, Jul’zin dwarfed his arm.   
“Go Vel!” Trixie shouted.   
“For the Horde!” Speegle countered, taking a swig of his drink.   
“Who be judgin’ us?” Jul’zin asked. “’ow bout you, ‘uman? Jul’zin don’t ‘member ya name.”  
“I can do that.” Meredith stood up, walking around the edge of the table and standing at the other end.   
“If she’s going to be up there, we should have an even number, so that we get even representation,” Ralath said, following her. “Besides, blood elves are known for their expertise in such matters.”  
“As judging bar competitions?” Kivia snorted. “You haven’t changed a bit, you brat.”  
“’uman, ya count us down, ya?” Jul’zin’s brow furrowed with concentration.   
“Alright. Three, two, one, go!”   
Alaria watched as Jul’zin and Velimn struggled against one another. Velimn’s entire arm shook as he tried to fight Jul’zin’s powerful drive. After a minute, however, it became clear who had the victory— Jul’zin slowly pushed Velimn’s hand down, and despite the struggle, Velimn found the back of his hand pressed to the table.   
“Well done, Jul,” Ralath said. “Done almost as beautifully as one of my rune strikes.”  
“I’m sorry, Vel,” Meredith said. “The troll won.”   
Velimn, chest heaving, stared at Jul’zin. “You were using magic, weren’t you?”  
“No, mon. I be a shaman, so I don’t got much ta help me wit’ strength. Were ya usin’ magic?” Jul’zin flexed his fingers.   
“As a member of the Alliance, it would be a dishonor for me to cheat.” He slipped his gauntlet back over his hand. “I don’t suppose your Horde has these same codes.”  
“Shut your mouth, paladin.” Kivia stood again. “You do not want to see the true might of the Horde.”  
Alaria looked to Jul’zin, then Velimn. “Can’t we just get along?” she asked quietly, burying her face in her tankard.   
“What was that?” Velimn asked her.   
“She be askin’ if we can be friendly,” Jul’zin clarified. “An’ Jul’zin don’ tink dat such a bad idea.”   
Trixie burst into laughter, and everyone turned to see that she and Speegle, who were intoxicated, were exchanging jokes.   
“I dabbled in gold farming, but I couldn’t get the coins to sprout!” Speegle let a hearty laugh escape his throat, and he slammed his empty glass on the table.   
“Well, of course you couldn’t,” Trixie replied. “Especially since you have to have your mining ability up!”  
“They’re getting along rather well,” Meredith noticed.   
“They’re drunk,” Velimn said. “They don’t know any better.”  
“’haps all of us should get drunk, ya?”  
“It’ll take more than this piss-water to get me drunk,” Kivia said.   
“I have to ride back to Orgrimmar, so I’m not going to get drunk,” Ralath declared. “I can’t be seen riding my proto-drake drunk. It would look horrible.”  
“All about looks, aren’t you?” Velimn muttered.   
“Give ‘em a break,” Jul’zin insisted. “’e jus’ bein’ responsible, mon.”

For nearly an hour, the banter continued, no one except Trixie and Speegle getting incredibly drunk. When the clock struck eleven, the party began to disband.   
“We have to go,” Meredith told Alaria, grabbing Trixie. “It’s going to be nearly impossible to get her to make a portal if we stay any longer.” She kissed Alaria on each cheek. “It was good to see you, Alaria. Thank you for contacting us. Please tell me you’ll keep in touch.”  
“Of course, Meredith.” Alaria hugged her, sighing. “Have a safe journey back,” she said. “You too, Trixie.”   
“I appreciate the generous actions you have completed recently,” Trixie said, her words slurred and practically unintelligible. “I’ll see you soon, Alaria.”  
Alaria watched as Trixie stumbled to a more open space, and after several attempts, created a portal to Stormwind for Meredith and herself to use.   
“Alaria.” Velimn put his hand on her shoulder. “Watch your back. You never know what the Horde is planning.” He leaned down, hugging her. “You send a post if you get into trouble. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”   
“Thanks, Vel.” She let an even longer sigh escape her lips. “I’m sorry.”  
“You did what you had to do.” He placed his helmet on his head, trotting towards the door. “Remember where you came from, Alaria. Don’t lose that.”   
Alaria sat down as Velimn left, and she watched Jul’zin showing his friends to the door of the inn. She noticed Kivia pull Jul’zin aside, whispering something into his ear , then kiss his cheek. She felt herself growing jealous and disheartened, and she turned away, feeling tears forming in her eyes. ‘I don’t feel like I’m capable anymore,’ she realized. ‘I don’t feel like I can be his anymore. Kivia was right. I’m not strong, I’m not rough, and I’m not Horde. I’m thin, I don’t like to be violent, and I’m Alliance. Maybe Vel was right, too. Maybe I should give up and return to Stormwind, where I’ll be punished and probably sent to the Stockades with all the petty criminals.’ She stood back up, quietly making her way up the stairs and to the room where she and Jul’zin had been staying. She took off her Jerkin, grabbing a large, blue linen shirt to sleep in. As tears ran down her face, Alaria took off her boots, gloves, and bracers, then slipped out of her belt and pants. ‘I don’t know if I can do this anymore.’ She crawled under the violet blanket, laying her head on one of the flat down pillows as she cried.  
After a few minutes, she heard Jul’zin pull open the wooden door to the room.   
“’laria?” he asked, shutting the door behind him. “Ya ‘wake, mon?”  
Alaria didn’t respond, stifling sobs.   
“’laria?” Jul’zin dropped his bracers and belt, walking over to the bed. “’laria, what da matta?”  
“Nothing,” she lied.  
“Ya be a bad liar, love.” Jul’zin stepped out of his mail kilt, tossing it over in the pile of gear and crouching in front of Alaria. “What be da matta? Jul’zin here ta listen.”  
“It’s fine.”   
“Ya not. Jul’zin see ya been cryin’.”  
“So what?”  
“So Jul’zin be worryin’ ‘bout ya.” He reached up, rubbing his thumb down her cheek. “Tell ‘im what be da matta, so dat he can fix it.”  
“Did you court Kivia?” She asked.   
“Long time ago, ya. But she not fo’ me, mon. She jus’ be a friend.” He slipped his hand beneath the blanket, rubbing Alaria’s arm. “Why dat matta, mon?”  
“I heard her talking to you about me. If what she said was true, I’m as far from someone you’d be interested in as I could get. I don’t look the right way or act the right way, and I’m from the Alliance.” She sighed, biting her quivering lip. “I don’t feel like I’m good enough for you.”  
“Dat be crazy talk, ‘laria.” Jul’zin nuzzled her cheek. “It true, I be lookin’ at otha women in da past who not like ya at all, but dat don’ mean I don’ like ya. Fact, I like ya da most. Ya make Jul’zin feel tings he hadn’t b’fo’.” He stood up, still leaning over. “Ya mind if Jul’zin hop in da bed?”  
“No,” she whimpered. Alaria covered her face with the blanket as Jul’zin plodded around to the other side, crawling in the rather small bed.   
“’laria,” he said, slipping beneath the comforter and pressing his chest to her back. “Ya need ta stop tinkin’ such crazy tings, mon. Ya not gon’ lose me ta da ‘lliance o’ anotha Horde, cause I be yours if ya take me.”  
Alaria took deep breaths, closing her eyes as Jul’zin slipped his arm beneath her and laid his fingers on her stomach.   
“Dis be Winter Veil, ya?” Jul’zin asked.   
“Yes,” she replied, slightly confused.  
“Ya know what Jul’zin want most? He want dis pretty li’l night elf, an’ he want ta make ‘er happy. He willin’ to dabble in da voodoo ta make dat happen.”   
Alaria felt her heart swell, then burst into more tears. “I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry, Jul’zin. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused for you, and for what happened with Velimn—”  
“Silly elf, stop cryin’. I don’ like dat.” He pressed his face into her neck, taking care to avoid stabbing her with his tusks. “An’ ‘laria, ya don’ have ta ‘ddress me by my whole name all da time. I don’ do dat fo’ ya, so ya don’ have ta do it fo’ me.”  
“What am I supposed to call you, then?”  
“It don’ matta ta me, mon.”   
“Your friends called you Jul.”  
“If ya wanna call me dat, ya can.” He reached over her, grabbing her hand. “Ya know Jul’zin love ‘laria, ya?”  
“I, well—”  
“Don’ be questionin’ it, he do.” He squeezed her hand. “An’ he only askin’ one ting o’ ‘laria.”  
“What?”   
“Love ‘im back. Dat all he lookin’ fo’.” He rubbed his forehead against her cheek. “I won’ leave ya, mon. I be here fo’ ya, so stop ya cryin’. Ya know we gone a long ways. If dem others don’ get it, den dey missin’ out. We got somethin’ dey wish dey had.”  
Alaria remained silent for a few moments, listening to the steady beat of Jul’zin’s heart. “I love you,” she said quietly. “I have since before we left your house. I can’t imagine living without you.”  
“Well, don’ worry ‘bout dat.” Jul’zin kissed Alaria on the cheek. “You da best Winter Veil present Jul’zin eva got, mon.”


End file.
